


Good Buddy

by HarveyDangerfield, swimsalot



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Attempted Sexual Assault, Broken Bones, Developing Relationship, Drinking to Cope, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, One Big Happy Family, Panic Attacks, Past Infidelity, Physical Therapy, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Relationships, Unplanned Pregnancy, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 63,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarveyDangerfield/pseuds/HarveyDangerfield, https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimsalot/pseuds/swimsalot
Summary: As it turns out, Loretta Krieghauser isn't very good for Troy. Sammy Stevens actually intends to do something about that.Following the trials and tribulations of Sammy Stevens as he tries his best to support one of his best friends through a loveless, dying marriage while grappling with feelings for him conflicting with his feelings for his own lost love, and how they finally come together in the end.
Relationships: Sammy Stevens/Jack Wright, Troy Krieghauser/Sammy Stevens
Comments: 22
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> we don't actually have any solid canon for loretta, but in listening to the show twice, ive picked up on several strange and unsettling things about her. 
> 
> 1) troy is sammy and ben's BEST FRIEND and in 100 episodes she's never called in once? chalk it up to them not having a voice actress for her i guess, but i don't buy it. it's just weird  
> 2) during the episode where debbie was introduced troy went out to respond to the call and said after he made it to the empty lot that his wife assumed he was out trying to cheat on her??  
> 3) one time when troy was running out in the middle of the night to help someone who was in danger, she immediately accused him of running off to cheat on her???  
> 4) when troy was assaulted by pearl and jacob, the only thing he could think about was how worried he was that loretta would be angry at HIM for seeing a topless woman, rather than have any concern for him over getting tied down and rubbed on nonconsensually
> 
> among other little things. there's just a laundry list of reasons loretta makes me uncomfortable. so my friend and i wrote this fic, with a bit of sammy/troy for good measure since that ship literally isn't a thing in this fandom and someone has to get the ball rolling! 
> 
> there's not enough troy content in this world and i aim to fix that
> 
> also, this story jumps around the timeline a lot. it skips big ol chunks of canon. if you're caught up to ep100 you should be gucci tho

"Six months, huh? Got any plans for your half-iversary?" 

In the six months that Sammy Stevens has been in town, he's made extraordinarily fast friends with the local deputy, Troy Kreighauser. He's found himself as close to the man as Ben himself, which is saying something since he spends every single day with Ben in close quarters for several hours, including weekends. 

"As if," Ben rolls his eyes. "He won't let me. You're lucky you managed to convince him to come to Rose's, I've never met someone as repulsed by celebration as _Shotgun Sammy._ " 

"What've you got against folks showin' you their appreciation?" Troy teases, cutting into his own stack of miniature pancake puppies. 

“I’ve only been here six months I think it’s a little early to start popping the champagne and handing me the keys to the city don’t you think?” Sammy shrugs, pushing his eggs around his plate. Usually he’s starving by the end of their show and his breakfast would be more than half gone by now but he’s not feeling particularly hungry this morning. So far he’s just sipped his coffee and pushed his eggs and bacon around his plate to make it look more eaten than it really is. “And calling me shotgun isn’t going to get me into the celebrating mood.” He adds, bumping Ben with his shoulder. “You know I hate that, I always hang up on that guy for a reason.”

"I got bad news for you about your particular choice of profession if you gotta preference of stayin' outta the limelight," Troy chuckles softly. "You know how they say in a small town everybody knows everybody? It ain't always true, but in your case, everybody _definitely_ knows you, and they're all gonna be real excited come your _real_ anniversary. You think Ben's bad now, just you wait."

"I'm gonna rent a bouncy castle," Ben says, reaching over to steal a piece of Sammy's bacon since he's not eating it. 

“I chose radio because there is a certain anonymity to it. It’s just my voice out there, not my face. And we’re on in the middle of the night how do we have the following we do?” Sammy asks, happily putting the rest of his bacon on Ben’s plate. “I get you listening to us Troy, you work nights, but there can’t be this many people in such a small town working the late shift. Not enough to account for the numbers Ben has been giving me.”

"Folks got all kinds of reasons to listen to your show. Some of 'em are up late, some of 'em are up _real_ early, some of 'em can't sleep. Some of 'em I know get up on purpose just to listen to your show, on account of how funny and honest you fellas are," Troy says, sounding like a proud father. "In fact, Marcy Wilson just the other day was tellin' me--" 

He's cut off, then, by the sound of his pocket chiming. He reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out his phone, and grimaces slightly at what he sees on the screen. "Uh, hold on just one second, fellas," he murmurs, and then swipes to accept the call. "Well hey there, Loretta. I was just about to--" they can't hear exactly what's being said on the other side of the line, but it's easy enough to pick up from the tone of voice on the other side that Troy's wife isn't happy. Troy sinks back slightly in his seat. "Now, hold on just a second, I _did_ text you to let you know I'd be home a li'l later than usual. I wanted to have breakfast with my boys, and--" 

Ben gives Sammy a pointed look as they hear crystal clear, the sound of Troy's wife repeat " _your boys_ " in a way that doesn't sound exactly friendly. 

Sammy frowns and sits up a little straighter. He’s never met Loretta but Troy has mentioned her a fair few times and somehow this was never the sort of image he’d painted. Though in retrospect that’s probably not surprising. Troy is incapable of saying a bad word about anyone or even implying it, especially someone he loves. He’s just a good person like that, always sees the best in people.

And he definitely doesn’t deserve the dressing down he’s getting right now on the phone. It’s clear Loretta is really laying into him and Sammy can’t help but wonder if this happens a lot because Troy doesn’t seem too eager to make a move to defend himself. Like he knows it’s better to just let it blow over rather than risk making it worse. And that thought makes his stomach twist uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry, Loretta. I know... yeah, I know. I shoulda texted you again when you didn't respond to the first one. I'm sorry," Troy mutters, looking increasingly embarrassed at being torn apart like this in front of his two new best friends. "I'll be home in an hour, okay, missus? Yeah... yeah, you too. Love you too." 

He hangs up the phone and sheepishly tucks his phone back into his pocket before clearing his voice and awkwardly trying to continue on. "Uh-- anyway, like I was sayin' about Marcy--"

"Pause," Ben holds both his hands up. "What just _happened_ , man, are you okay?" 

"I'm fine, honest," Troy shrugs. "Loretta didn't reply when I told her I'd be havin' breakfast with you guys, and I made the mistake of thinkin' the absence of a no meant yes. She was outta service and never got that text. She just worries is all-- it's my fault."

“Dude. You didn’t do anything wrong, you’re a grown man, you shouldn’t be asking permission to get breakfast with your friends,” Sammy says, still frowning hard at Troy and his now silent phone. “Sure you should tell her where you’re going so she doesn’t worry but it’s just breakfast, it’s not like you’re going to be gone all day. Come on.”

"I wasn't askin' _permission_ ," Troy says, but he sounds more cowed than defensive. 

Sammy pushes his plate away, appetite now entirely gone after that little display. “She shouldn’t yell at you like that. Are you sure you’re okay?”

"I'm okay, promise," Troy says. "She just gets crabby when she's sleepy, that's all. She'll apologize for yellin' later, she usually does. I'll butter her up by bringin' her home a slice of rose's apple pie, that always puts some--"

"I swear to god if you say pep in her step," Ben warns, picking up on the fact that Troy clearly wants to move past this topic in a way that Sammy doesn't seem to be letting go of. 

" _And_ some hop in her heart," Troy teases right back, grateful for Ben's segue into a different subject.

"Augh! Cancelled! Banned! Blocked and reported!" Ben throws a piece of Sammy's bacon at Troy who bats it away with a laugh. Troy catches one last little furrow in Sammy's brow before he, too, finally relinquishes the topic at hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're rearranging and adding a few things to canon. troy doesn't actually break his leg at this point in canon, but ‾\\_(ツ)_/‾

Sammy might have been okay with that conversation if he wasn't all too familiar with what it looks like to cower from someone you're supposed to love. Someone who's supposed to love _you_. He would have just written it off as a fluke, a bad night, if not for the familiar way Troy resigned himself to getting shouted at. But still, unless he had some reason to believe things were as bad as his heart and his head feared, it wasn't his place to pry. 

He tries not to look for patterns. That was always Jack's thing, not his. He tries not to draw conclusions. But things get more difficult when Troy is driven off the road by the mayor's lackeys in order to successfully throw the election in Grisham's favor, and things with Loretta get even stranger. He and Ben go to the hospital to visit him while he's laid up with his leg in a hanging sling, and to their surprise, Loretta isn't even there. 

Troy tells them that she was there, but she went home the previous night to shower and 'sleep in her own bed' so she'd be more comfortable. Troy passed along a joke that she told, that if she had to 'look after Troy like an invalid' she'd rather not have a backache from sleeping in shitty hospital chairs. Troy laughed as he said it. Sammy did not. 

He finds it even more peculiar that when upon his second visit to the hospital, he sees that the flowers he and Ben had brought Troy had been relocated to the floor beside and slightly behind the chair next to Troy's bed, and with Troy laid up it definitely wasn't him that moved him. Sammy wants to assume it was the nurses who moved it for some reason, but he can't bring himself to ask. He doesn't want Troy to think he's looking for excuses to frown about Loretta. 

He picks the flowers up and puts them on the window sill, out of the way but at least not on the floor any more, before settling in to chat with Troy and keep him company for a few hours. He knows it’s killing him not to be able to be working especially this close to Christmas. 

“Will they be letting you go home soon?” He asks, pulling his chair close to Troy’s bedside. “Will Gunderson let you at least work desk duty until your leg is healed?”

"I surely hope so. We can't afford for me to be off work any longer than I already have. Heck, I'd even figure out a way to drive if they'd let me get behind the wheel. Fat chance of that happenin', though. I'll probably get put on paperwork duty until they get this dang cast off my leg," Troy sighs wearily, reaching up with the remote to turn off the TV in the corner of his room. "I tell you what, I've never been so sick of daytime TV in all my life. Won't even gimme a radio in here so I can listen to you fellas at night when I can't sleep."

“I bet Ben can smuggle one in. He’s pretty sneaky when he sets his mind to it and it’s for a good cause,” Sammy grins. “We’d love to have you calling in again we miss hearing from you. I don’t know how many more nights I can stand fielding calls from Cynthia Higgenbaum and Pete Meyers without some friendly voices to break it up man, it’s killing me.”

"If Loretta hadn't taken my dang cell phone, I'd be callin' in every night, anyway," Troy says with a humorless little laugh. "Says she doesn't want anything distracting me from gettin' better. She hides the remote when she's here, too-- says I should just be sleepin' between surgeries on my dang knee. Last one's tomorrow, though, so with any luck I should be out in just two more days."

Sammy frowns, that same frown he had that day in Rose’s when Loretta called to shout at Troy and that same twisting discomfort settles in his gut telling him something about this is very much not right.

“She _took_ your phone? What the hell?” He asks before he remembers to modulate his tone. “You don’t think that’s a little excessive? I mean of course you should be focusing on your recovery but texting and calling your friends a little isn’t going to hurt you, and what if you need to get ahold of her? Or she needs to get ahold of you? What if she something comes up and she can’t come visit how would she tell you?” He pauses and gives Troy a look. “She _is_ visiting you right?”

"Of course she's visiting. I don't much appreciate your tone," Troy says, though his voice is as mild and calm as ever. "Loretta's a fretter, that's all. She visits once a day for an hour or so, but she's got a job of her own, so she can't exactly stay glued to me. I don't rightly mind she took my phone, except for how god dang bored I've been."

“Sorry sorry. I don’t mean to have a tone it just seems like overkill to me.” Sammy says, running a hand nervously through his hair. It’s really starting to get long but he can’t be bothered to get it cut. “Do you want to borrow mine? I have another.”

"Naw, I don't wanna nab yours, she might just take that, too," Troy laughs like it's a joke, but Sammy doesn't even smile. "Now, don't look at me that way. She's a li'l older than me--well, a _­bit_ older than me, chances are she just forgot hospital rooms don't really have rotary land lines much anymore. 'Specially not a piddly-pie town like King Falls. It's just a couple more days, I can tough it out. You're real sweet for offerin' me your own property though, Sammy."

“Are you sure?” Sammy asks, pulling out his phone to hold it out to Troy. “It’s really no trouble. It’ll be good to have a line for emergencies. Frankly it’ll set my mind at ease. I have enough to worry about with Ben and his notebook without knowing you’re totally cut off from the world.”

Troy can't help but smile as he reaches out and takes the phone. "Alright, alright. Twist my arm, why don't ya. Thanks a million, Sammy. I'll call in tonight for sure." 

Sammy doesn't like it that night when he's informed that Loretta hadn't found time to visit Troy that day after work. He likes it even less when he finds out that she got angry at him for calling into the show that night. 

Luckily he's able to put it out of his mind when Troy is officially released from the hospital. Ben's the one who drives him home since they discharge him while his wife is at work, and Sammy's squarely passed out by then, but Ben assures him that he got Troy inside safe and sound and snug as a bug on the couch before he left. 

Things go back to normal for long enough that Sammy starts to forget about the weird feelings he has about Loretta. They're largely unsubstantiated, and he knows that, but it seems like she has some kind of radar for when Sammy is starting to forget about the way she makes him feel, and so she'll do something else. 

This time, it comes in the form of Troy's voice calling into the station one lazy evening, a voice for sore ears after their interviewee had to cancel at the last second because they couldn't find their way out of Sweetzer Forest. They call in to apologize and Ben promises to reschedule with them later, but it leaves them with 45 minutes of dead air that's first filled with a few miserable minutes of Greg calling to demand they use part of the airtime to run another Granny Frickard's ad, followed by Cynthia grilling them for being irresponsible-- and then finally, blessedly, the sound of Troy's voice. 

"If only I'd been there to guide 'em out the same way I did you, bout a year or so back," Troy chuckles, keeping his voice low. 

"I still remember it like it was yesterday," Sammy laughs, as if that hadn't been on of the worst nights of his life. "Not exactly my finest moment, or the most graceful entrance onto the King Falls scene I could have made-- but there's no one else I would have rather had there to find me and help me get my bearings Troy."

" _Awwwwww_ ," Ben groans exaggeratedly into the mic until Sammy shoves him and continues, 

"We're all looking forward to having you back up and on your feet. You'll be back out and about in time for the tree lighting ceremony right? Supposedly they're going to let us host even after the disaster our last public appearance turned out to be."

"Boy, I sure as shoot hope so," Troy sighs. "But I dunno. I'm still in this daggum wheelie chair, and it's about drivin' me up the wall, I tell you what. King Falls police station ain't exactly handicap friendly, the hallways are barey big enough for two people to pass one another, let alone a whole wheelchair. I keep scrapin' the walls every time I try to take corners, and I think Gunderson's about ready to make me start spacklin' the chunks I keep takin' outta the plaster."

"Sounds like he should take this as a wake up call then. Building isn't up to accessability standards. Take it up with Grisham and get some funding for renovations." Sammy shrugs. "Sounds like you have a lawsuit waiting to happen over there, better to get out ahead of it now that you know it's a problem. You're doing them a favor in the long run. But you'll be out of that chair in no time Troy I'm sure of it. King Falls needs our best deputy back out on the streets keeping us safe and keeping the Williams boys from causing trouble."

"Oh, I highly doubt the mayor'd shell out for wider hallways for a building where handicapped people ain't really supposed to be workin', anyhow. I'm lucky that my injury's temporary with physical therapy, but if someone's laid outta commission permanent-like with somethin' thats puts 'em in a chair for good? Chances are they ain't gonna be an officer no more," Troy sighs. "Besides, with the way Gunderson's been farther up my pucker than a colonoscopy, I doubt they'd listen to me anyhow. I'm just lucky they're lettin' me work at--" he pauses in the call to yawn deeply before finishing with a drowsy, "At all."

Sammy can't help a fond chuckle and Troy's little yawn. "Feeling the hour Troy? Must have got used to not having to stay up so late after a little while, is it hard adjusting to being back on the night shifts? I gotta tell you, the first few nights I come back on air after our holiday breaks or my little 'vacation' after the bass tournament last year- don't give me that look Ben- I end up drinking at least two pots of coffee to get through the show."

"Boy, don't you know it. It don't help I've been pullin' double shifts whenever they'll let me, gettin' in as much overtime pay as I can tolerate. I got mega hospital bills after they went in on my knee about six times, and those premiums ain't payin' themselves," Troy says, scrubbing at his eyes. "I figure I'll get those shifts in now while I'm all sedentary-like, on account of I don't have to worry about puttin' nobody in danger, seein' as I ain't in charge of savin' lives or drivin' cars for the time being. The extra moolah's been a godsend, but if I ain't tired-er than a fat dog on a hot day."

"Doubles?" Ben can't keep the concern out of his voice, and he doesn't try. "How long is a shift for you?"

"Bout nine hours, give or take," Troy says. "I'll do my night shift from 9pm to 6am, and then I grab a three hour nap on the couch in my office before doin' the shift from 9am to 6pm, rinse and repeat, bout four days a week. Five, if they let me swing it."

"Troy. Buddy that can't be healthy," Sammy also doesn't make any attempt to keep the worry from his voice. "When was the last time you had a decent meal? Or a shower? Or slept in a proper bed? You're only going to slow down your recovery if you don't let your body rest up like it needs to."

"What day is it?" Troy asks tiredly. 

"It's thursday, man," Ben replies.

"Then uh... it's been a minute," Troy sucks air through his teeth.

He sighs and shakes his head. "I swear between the two of you I'm getting grey hair and worry lines. Is Loretta okay with this Troy? Surely she must miss seeing you if you're not even going home to get some sleep."

"She comes into the station to see me. Brings dinner most days, since I can't really afford to leave if I wanna get full overtime pay," Troy yawns again, this time turning his face away from the phone. "Between you and me, I think she's lovin' havin' the bed all to her lonesome. She always says I got feet like two frozen hams." 

"The couch can't be good for your leg, man," Ben insists. 

"Well, it's the best I can do," Troy says, sounding weary. "Sure, it smarts somethin' fierce on occasion, but I just do my stretches and take it easy. I got a heatin' pad practically thumbtacked to my leg permanently, and I've been takin' more aleve than is maybe medically recommended. I'll get through it, I always do. Besides, I couldn't go home right now even if I wanted to, just this mornin' I overturned a pot of coffee in the break room with my chair, clean over the biggest ol' stack of paperwork you ever saw, and now I'm technically off duty retypin' every single word on these documents to make up for my goof, and even if _that_ weren't the case, Loretta's hoppin' mad at me for doin' this since it's technically not paid work. I really can't afford to be spendin' time doin' menial tasks I ain't even gettin' paid for, and she knows it. So even if I did go home now, I'd probably be on the couch, anyhow."

That uncomfortable feeling in Sammy's gut is back full force. He hates to do this on air but he can't just let something like this slide, not when its escalating to a point of physically hurting Troy. Maybe in the past he might have saved it for a few hours until they got off air and he would have grabbed some pancakes from Rose's to bring Troy at the station to talk to him there, but between Emily's disappearance, worrying about Ben, and this time of year, Sammy's filter is worn thin and he can't keep his mouth shut.

"I'm sorry Troy, but that's ridiculous. You're in pain, you're _exhausting_ yourself, and you're saying _you're_ in trouble for some stupid mistake that was honestly just the culmination of those things? Are you kidding me with this?" He says, a little bit of his old shotgun personality slipping into his voice. "You should be home, taking care of yourself. Screw the money, that really can't be more important than your health, can it? Jack in the box Jesus."

"Sammy," Ben mutters, his face turned away from the mic. 

"I know it. You're right," Troy sighs. "But I can't do nothin' about it, boys. I gotta get all these dang papers typed up before my next shift if I wanna get that sweet sweet overtime pay."

"Maybe we can come help you?" Ben offers. "I don't know if Gunderson would even let us within 10 feet of the station, but if so-- I can clock 200 words a minute and I can bring my laptop."

"Well shoot, that's kind of you to offer," Troy's voice goes soft. "But no can do, I'm afraid. This ain't a place for civilians and if Gunderson finds out I pawned off some of my own mistake onto other people? Boy, he'd have a field day."

“You don’t want me touching your computer anyway,” Sammy reminds them both. “Troy please, I know you have to get these done but once you do, take a break? Go home, sleep in your bed. You’ll be a lot more use to the force and the town if you aren’t falling asleep at your desk because you’re working yourself to death trying to be superman. I know if anyone can do it it’s you, believe me I know you’re incredible and all that, but you shouldn’t have to.”

"You're boutta make me blush, I swear," Troy laughs into the phone, but it's cut off with a yawn. "I hear ya, I do. Maybe one of ya'll can come swing by and pick me up, take me home? I guess the world won't end if I don't do the morning shift, and I could use a little time bein' proper horizontal." 

"Absolutely, Troy. We'll come get you as soon as we're off the clock," Ben promises. "You take care of yourself, alright?"

"Ten four, good buddy," Troy says. "See ya in a few." 

The line clicks and Ben sighs, leaning back in his chair before looking sidelong at Sammy. "And you say _I_ overwork myself."

“You want to go there right now Ben? I’ll give you a speech too, I’m on a roll tonight,” Sammy threatens with a smile that’s bordering on evil. He does feel a little better, almost triumphant at having won this battle and gotten Troy to agree to take care of himself. He tells himself it’s just because he wants his friend to be okay, and he does. He wants nothing more than do Troy to be well and happy and to get better. But there is a small part of him that feels a little satisfied at having won out over Loretta in this.


	3. Chapter 3

Normally, 8am to 4pm is _Sammy Time_. Time during which his phone is off, his notifications shut down, his windows blacked out, and his door locked. Time for him to get some much needed sleep before he has to be up and preparing for the nightly broadcast. Normally, on the rare occasion he forgets to turn his phone off and gets woken up by a call or a text, he's irritated and grouchy. But when the chime alerts him to his phone's presence and he rolls over to see it's Troy calling him at 1pm, a time he _knows_ for sure Sammy is meant to be asleep, he's awake in a flash. 

"Troy? Everything alright, buddy?" his voice croaks slightly with sleep. 

"Aw, shoot, I was hopin' I wouldn't wake ya," Troy says mournfully. "I'm real sorry, Sammy. I just-- I need a favor somethin' awful and I tried Ben first on account of he rarely sleeps anyhow, but he just wasn't pickin' up, and Loretta's at work, and--"

“It’s no problem Troy I was just getting up anyway,” Sammy lies, sitting up in bed and stifling a yawn. He stretches and levers himself out of bed to start getting dressed. “You said you need a favor? Shouldn’t be a problem, what do you need? I can be over at your place in twenty minutes if you want.”

"Well, it's... it's a little embarrassing," Troy admits in a hushed tone. "You gotta promise you won't make funna me."

“Troy, you know me, would I ever make fun of you? For something serious I mean,” Sammy asks as he runs his fingers through his hair to work out the worst of the knots.

"Well... no. A'course not," Troy says, his voice sounding tight. "It's just-- alright, shoot, I'll just say it. Loretta had to take my wheelchair with her today cause part of the dang wheel broke off and it needs to get turned into the hospital so I can get a new one, but she's gonna be gone all day, she can only do it after work. I've had my butt parked on the couch where it belongs, and I've been _good_ mind you, ain't had a thing to sip all morning, but my body don't seem to care about that none because nature is callin' in a _real_ mean way, and I just can't bear to stand and walk far enough yet to get myself to the bathroom without help. I wouldn't call unless it was an _ee-mer-gen-cee_ , Sammy. Things are gettin' _dire_ on this end."

Sammy doesn’t laugh. He _doesn’t._ He doesn’t chuckle or snort or make any sign of his amusement... that Troy could hear, anyway. But he does smile because how could he not when Troy talks like that? It’s impossible not to grin when he’s getting so emphatic but in such a cute, down home kind of way that only Troy can pull off.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Sammy assures him.

"I appreciate it," Troy says, his voice strained. 

Sammy gets there in just under seven, and he helps Troy hobble down the hall to the bathroom. It's kind of cute but also kind of sad that he needed help walking just 30 feet. He realizes how much he took for granted his ability to walk himself to the bathroom whenever he needed to go. 

Once Troy has washed his hands and Sammy is helping him back to the couch, Troy eases back down onto the cushions with a groan, rubbing at his leg. "I can't thank you enough. I'm so sorry to drag you outta bed to come help your friend piddle like a newborn."

“It’s no problem. Not the first time,” Sammy says without thinking. He drops onto the couch next to Troy. “You need anything else while I’m here? Something to eat or anything? I’ve got nothing going on today I can hang out for a little while until Loretta gets back with your chair to help you out. Being stuck on your couch has to suck.”

"It ain't ideal," Troy sighs. "I appreciate it, honest. If you just wanna keep me company, that'd be swell. It's gonna be kind of a lonesome day, Loretta ain't gonna be back until eight or so. I was supposed to get outta the house today to do physical therapy, but since my chair broke and she's gotta swap it out for a new one, I had to reschedule my appointment. Just havin' someone to chat with would be a blessing. All my friends are night-shift, ain't none of 'em awake at this hour. Well, except you-- still sorry about that."

“It’s no problem Troy, really. I’d much rather be hanging out with you,” Sammy says, smiling over at the deputy. “I could drive you to physical therapy if you need. Why don’t you give them a call and see if they can still fit you in today? You really shouldn’t miss that stuff, it’s a big deal for you’re recovery. And you’ve only got a week or two left in the cast right? Can’t afford any set backs now. Christmas is right around the corner. And I expect to see you up and about by then.”

"You mean it? Heck, you're the best friend a guy could ask for. Pass me the phone," Troy says, and takes it from Sammy's hand when it tosses the cell phone his way. He speed dials the number and holds it up to his ear. "Hey-- Pauline? Yeah, it's Troy. I got a ride to my appointment after all, do you think--" he pauses for a moment, his relief slowly fading from his eyes. "Oh-- no-- yeah, of course! It's not a problem. Thanks for lettin' me know! You too, buh bye." 

Hanging up with a sigh, he leans forward to drop the phone back on the table. "The doc's already made plans to ship out early to see his kid's game, seein' as I was the last appointment of the day. I can't ask him to stick around for little ol' me when the little leaguers are hittin' the big diamond tonight. It just ain't right."

Sammy shakes his head but he’s smiling warmly at him. “You’re too nice Troy. Always looking out for other people. Are there any exercises you can do here? I’ll help you out with them if you need. I’m more than happy to lend a hand.”

"You mean it?" Troy's face splits in a grin. "Aw shoot, that'd be real nice. I'm supposed to do squats and stuff. I can't do much with my leg in a cast, the real PT will start once it's off, but I've been on a strict regimen to keep the rest of me from gettin' all weary. Keepin' my other leg strong so it don't give out on me and stuff like that." 

"Yeah man of course. Just tell me what you need me to do," Sammy says, having to look away from Troy. He can feel his cheeks heating up in the face of the full force of Troy's grin. The deputy just has that effect on him, he's too sweet and sincere and it makes Sammy feel all warm when it's directed at him like this without anyone else around to act as a buffer.

"Just help me up," Troy reaches out for his friend and see-saws up onto his feet. His left leg is bent in a cast, but the other one supports his weight as they hobble to a more clear space between the living room and kitchen. Troy winds his hands around Sammy's forearms and instructs Sammy to do the same, so they have a good hold on one another, and then he starts doing basic squats, effectively dragging his friend down with him. 

"Heh, looks like it's gonna be a workout for us both," Troy says with a slightly breathless chuckle.

"Yeah," Sammy says, also a little breathless. Slightly more so than Troy which is a surprise to no one. His job involves him sitting in a chair for five hours talking to his best friend, its not as if he's living a life that requires a lot of physical activity. He takes walks and eats alright but he's not exactly an athlete and it's showing. "Been a while since I did this sort of thing. Promise you won't laugh if my knees give out?"

" _Your_ knees? I'm the one in a leg cast Stevens, keep up," Troy teases, grinning from ear to ear as he drops into another deep squat. "At this rate I could run laps around you even with the brace still on."

"I'm a lot older than you!" Sammy protests through a laugh. "You're a fighting fit deputy of the law and I'm a wise cracking radio personality who just needs to sit around looking pretty. You can't expect me to keep up with you, cast or not."

"Aw, you can't be that much older than me. You're what, 35?" Troy says, dropping down once more. "What's ten years between friends, anyhow? You barely look a day over 30, if you ask me."

"I'm 33, thanks." Sammy says, pretending to be a lot more hurt than he actually is. Lack of sleep, stress, and everything else will age a person he knows that. He's surprised after everything he doesn't look a lot worse for wear than he does. The beard he started growing after he moved to King Falls probably doesn't help. "It always throws me how young you and Ben are. And that you're the same age."

"We were the same height for a long time, too," Troy laughs, dropping down once more and hissing through his teeth as his bad hip smarts, but he powers right through it. "Until we were about twelve or so, I'd say. Then practically over the summer I just damn near shot up all at once. Grew about eighteen inches between the ages of twelve and twenty, and Ben grew... what, three?"

"You're telling me there was a time he was even smaller?" Sammy teases, maybe a little more harshly than he normally would. He tightens his grip on Troy to give him more support, easing them down into the next squat a little more gently to try to keep Troy from hurting himself. "Do you need a break? Maybe some water?"

"It sounds like maybe _you_ need a break," Troy teases lightly, and concedes to let Sammy help him down into the more-nearby armchair, taking the glass of water from him when the older man fetches it for him. He watches him closely and sips from his glass with a sigh. "Alright, you had to know this was comin'. Talk to me about Ben."

"I have nothing to say about Benedict Arnold." Sammy says, dropping heavily onto the couch. He takes a long drink from his own glass of water. "If you were listening to the broadcast you know exactly what happened and that's that. There's nothing more to talk about. I'd rather hear about how you're doing. Not still pulling double shifts every night right?"

"Of course I was listening," Troy says, blasting right past Sammy's attempts to deflect. "I heard him hurt you somethin' fierce by suspecting you. I heard your heart just break on air when you found out there was a time your best friend thought you were implicated in the disappearance of the love of his life in _any_ sorta way," he speaks slowly, and watches Sammy's expression go slack. "I _also_ heard him tryin' his god damndest to apologize while you just walked out and left him there."

"Sometimes an apology doesn't cut it." Sammy says quietly, turning his glass around in his hands. "I just- I'm a private person. I didn't realize that made me so untrustworthy and suspicious. And he would never say that about you or anyone else from the town and I guess that just means I'm not really as much a part of things here as I thought I was if he could ever even think that."

"I get it," Troy says, setting the glass down on the coffee table so he can reach out and put his big hand on Sammy's knee, the only place he can really reach from his vantage point. "What he did wasn't right. You know it and I know it. It wasn't _fair_. After everything you've done for him and this town, it just wasn't fair of him to think that. But I also know that grief makes people stupid as hell, and that Ben wasn't thinkin' clearly when he wrote that. How long exactly are you plannin' to punish him?"

He shrugs. He knows Troy is right and Ben isn't in his right mind, a feeling he knows all too well and can sympathize with. He should be more understanding and sympathetic but this time a year sympathy is something he's a little short on, anger and pain are in ample supply. "New Years maybe," He answers finally. "You're a good friend for looking out for him. For both of us." He says, placing his hand on top of Troy's for just a second. "Thank you."  
  
Troy turns his hand around to take Sammy's in his, and pulls it a bit closer so he can sandwich it between his own two hands. "Take it from someone who suffered a long darn time without the friendship of Ben Arnold in his life-- you'll be better off once you fellas are friends again. Both of you will."

"I'm sure. I just need to let this run it's course." Sammy says, giving Troy's hand a squeeze. He'd never noticed how big Troy's hands are before, or how warm they are. "It won't last forever. Promise."

"Well. _Good_. Glad to hear it. Ya'll've been breakin' my heart to pieces, I swear. Now get your butt up and help me do some lunges," Troy says. Sammy really feels the warmth of Troy's hands leave his when they do. 


	4. Chapter 4

"No, I _mean_ it, Ben! You sang! ALL of you sang!" 

The making-up between Sammy and Ben couldn't have come soon enough, if you ask most of King Falls-- especially Troy, who finally was able to make it up on his feet just days before the tree lighting ceremony. Sure, he's on a crutch, but it's better than nothing. 

"Aaaaalright, Sammy. You've heard our crazy, stupid, _musical_ story, King Falls--" Ben laughs, launching into the usual shpiel while Sammy insists from beside him that he _did in fact sing, Ben Arnold!_

It's Doyle who calls in first to tell the boys about the damndest thing he ever saw, followed by Herschel proclaiming that he preferred King Falls before it started snowing again, and finally Archie claiming that he's pretty sure the last couple who came by to buy one of his pomchis was one of the hillbilly werewolves in their 'handsome man disguises.'

"Line six, you are live," Sammy leans back in his seat. 

"Merry early Christmas, fellas," Troy's voice comes through loud and clear.

"Troy!" Ben sits up excitedly. "It's so good to hear from you, man. Seeing you on your own two feet at the tree lighting ceremony was awesome. How are you feeling?"

"A little sore here and there, but it's nothing a handful or two of aleve can't cure," Troy says, and then quickly follows it up with, "That was a joke, King Falls, substance abuse is a serious epidemic."

"Does aleve count? Really?" Sammy asks but doesn't wait for a response. "It's great to hear from you man, and it was great to have you up and about at the tree lighting! I'm sorry I wasn't there to see you in person, except I'm not because of, you know, all the singing that definitely did happen. Or in your case, rapping. Sort of. I'm glad you're feeling so much better man, you going back to work full time after the holidays?"

"Sure am! And boy am I glad for it, if I had to spend one more week couch hopping between my office and home, I mighta hit the ceiling," Troy says. "I'm doin' my best not to push it, but I just can't wait until my doc gives me the okey-dokey to start joggin' again."

"This isn't exactly jogging weather anyway, dude," Ben laughs. "Ever since the tree lighting the snow's been coming down like crazy."

"Like a little snow would keep me from runnin' at this point if it weren't medically necessary for me to take it easy," Troy chuckles.

"It's not exactly a little snow Troy. I got stuck coming up the mountain yesterday," Sammy chimes in. "It's really been coming down out there these past few days. It'll be nice to have a white Christmas though. Gives the town a real Christmas postcard kind of feel. You must be excited for the holidays right? Just a couple more days out."

"Five and counting, good buddy," Troy says. "It's gonna be kind of a lean one, since almost all the extra pay I took went right into my hospital bills-- but on the upside, I'm giving Loretta the wonderful Christmas present of not bein' in medical debt!" 

"Sounds like a damn good present if you ask me," Ben says. "Besides, the thing that makes the holidays special is the time you spend with your loved ones, not _presents_."

"I'm gettin' her some nice perfume anyhow, but the biggest present-- besides the medical debt thing anyhow-- is that I'm gonna clean the whole house top to bottom while she's out, to thank her for takin' such good care of me while I was laid up," Troy sounds very proud of himself as he says it. 

"Is it a good idea for you to be broadcasting her Christmas presents live?" Ben asks skeptically with a fond smile on his face. 

"Oh, it ain't a problem. Loretta don't listen to this show, so it's safe," Troy laughs. 

"You know, it just occurred to me, I don't think I've ever met Loretta," Sammy says, leaning back a little in his chair and raising an eyebrow. "In the almost two years I've been here, during which time I like to think we've become good friends, I can't remember ever actually meeting or hearing from your wife. Ben, what about you? Have you ever seen the famous Loretta in the flesh?" 

He looks expectantly over at Ben, and maybe it's a little unfair to put him on the spot like this but surely he has to think this is off too. That after all these years they've never met they're best friend's spouse despite spending so much time together. They've had ample opportunities but now that Sammy is thinking about it, it's almost like Loretta is avoiding them for some reason.

"Uh, like... once. I think. In the supermarket that one time, right Troy?" Ben asks. "With the pomegranates?"

"No, that was Candace, Loretta's friend," Troy says. "She's just a private sorta lady, is all. Bein' live on the air would make her real nervous."

"Well, that explains her not calling in, some people have phone anxieties and stuff," Ben says. "Can't blame anyone for that, but-- yeah actually come to think of it, is is kind of weird that we've never met her. How long have you guys been married?"

"About four years, come next fall," Troy says. "We got married back when you were still givin' me the cold shoulder, Ben. Otherwise I woulda invited you to the wedding."

"Why don't you invite her to join us for breakfast at Rose's sometime? Or we can come over to your place and have breakfast there? We've heard so much about her, it'd be nice to put a face to the stories," Sammy says, keeping his voice deliberately light. He doesn't want Troy thinking this is anything other than the totally unsuspicious offer that it is. "I think its about time don't you?"

"Oh, uh..." Troy sounds uncertain. 

"Is something wrong?" Ben frowns, and shares a look with Sammy. 

"Well, no. I mean-- look, it ain't you guys," Troy says. "You ain't done nothin' wrong, but. I dunno if that'll happen, Loretta likes to keep to herself. She's told me before she don't like to cross the streams, you know? Her friends are hers and my friends are mine. She always said she don't wanna become like one of those couples who get so codependent on one another that we don't have lives of our own, and I respect her for it. She's gotta life of her own outside our home just like I do, and then inside the home we got our life together. It works for us."

Ben's brows are just about in his hairline as he looks over at Sammy, rendered speechless.

“So. You’ve never met any of her friends either?” Sammy asks, fighting the disbelief that threatens to creep into his tone as he returns Ben’s raised eyebrow look. That all might sound well and good on the surface, having their own lives and not living in each other’s pockets, but this again sounds like an extreme. Like Loretta is looking for an excuse to not be involved in Troy’s life.

"Well... I'm not as good at followin' the rule as she is, I'll admit," Troy gives a chuckle. "I just love people, you know that. I'm not quite as private as she is-- so I've met a few of her friends. Maybe more than a few. But she knows that, it ain't like I'm sneakin' around behind her back chattin' up her girlfriends! That's on me though, I may be an officer of the law but that's one rule I break on the reg. It'd just be unfair of me to expect the same of her." 

“No one was accusing you of chatting up her girlfriends Troy. And you know we would certainly never try to chat up Loretta if that’s what you’re worried about,” Sammy assures him. “Right Ben?”

" _Obviously_ ," Ben agrees. "We don't even know what she _looks_ like-- not that. Not that it would make a difference-- okay, let me start over--"

"No, that's not what I meant. Poor choice'a words, my bad," Troy cuts Ben off at the pass, starting to sound a little nervous. "It's just that she likes to have her own life, be her own woman. I respect her for that. It's nothin' personal against you fellas."

Sammy doesn’t bother keeping the skepticism out of his voice this time, and why should he? Being a skeptic is his brand after all. “Sure. Yeah that makes perfect sense.” He says. “Doesn’t seem personal at all. She’s come by the station right? Met your coworkers? Office friends? Just not us.”

"Well now, that's _different_ ," Troy says, sounding just slightly defensive. "The folks at the station are public officials, and it's where I work, so I'm there darn near every day of my life. It's a mite different than goin' out of her way to visit an old radio tower on the edge of town."

"Okay, simmer down, both of you, come on," Ben says. "If Loretta doesn't want to meet us, that's _her_ business, we're not going to bust in uninvited."

"Sure," Sammy says flatly. 

"We're _not_ ," Ben insists. "You have a merry Christmas, Troy. You and Loretta both."

"Ya'll do as well," Troy says, brightening up a bit. "Over and out."

Ben quickly cuts to a commercial and while that's running, he turns to Sammy, taking his headphones off. "You alright, man? You got kinda heated back there."

"You don't think it's weird? That you've never met Loretta and that she wants to keep their social lives totally separate? I'm all for having your own life and not needing your significant other stuck to your hip 24/7, that's healthy, but come on." Sammy snaps, dropping his own headphones onto the desk. "Not even meeting their friends is crazy. They're important people in their life and what if something happened to Troy? How would we find out? Loretta isn't going to tell us."

"Yeah, man. I'm right there with you, I think it's _super_ weird. I couldn't even imagine not wanting to meet my partner's best friends-- but it's not our place to get up in their shit," Ben sighs, ruffling his hands through his curls. "Maybe this is unfair, but... if Loretta doesn't want to meet us, she's maybe not the kind of person we want to know, anyway."

"I don't want to think that. I don't want to think Troy's _wife_ is the kind of person we don't want to know." Sammy grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. "Something about all this just doesn't sit right with me. I don't think it's just about her not wanting to meet his friends, I think it's us. I bet if it was the Jensen's or someone, she wouldn't have a problem."

"Why would she have a problem with _us_ , man?" Ben says, reaching out to put his hand on Sammy's tensely crossed arms. "She can't have a problem with us if she's never met us. And if she's heard about us, it's probably from Troy, and you _know_ he only says good things about us."

"Maybe she doesn't like how much time Troy spends with us? Or she thinks we get him into too much trouble, I don't know man. Half this town seems to have problems with us for reasons I'll never understand." Sammy shrugs but relaxes a little under Ben's soft touch.

" _Never understand_ my ass," Ben laughs as the commercial comes to a close, and they have to turn back to take more calls. 

It's just a couple days later when Troy gives them the exciting news that he'd spoken to Loretta and she gave the go-ahead to let Ben and Sammy come over on Christmas day. Ben is significantly more excited than Sammy, who isn't afraid to admit that he knows it's a little backwards that he was the one insisting it wa a problem Loretta didn't want to meet them, while also being the one who's nervous about meeting her. 

It's not like he's _afraid_ of her. She's not a hydra for god's sake. But he wants to make a good impression on the wife of one of his two best friends in the world, a wife that he knows was skeptical about meeting him in the first place. It's time like these that he wishes he had Ben's childlike enthusiasm for things, because as they bound up the path to Troy's (frankly adorable) house, decorated to the nines with Christmas lights, charming wooden lawn decorations and wreaths in every window, all he feels is a sense of dread. 

Ben elects to use the door knocker instead of the doorbell, whanging the iron ring against the slab beneath it before turning a grin to Sammy. "Troy's _house_ , man!" he hisses under his breath. "This is so great. I've never been here before. He's like a real grown ass adult, living in a house. I bet he has a mortgage and everything."

Sammy can't hold back a laugh and adjusts the bottle of wine he's holding so it's tucked under one arm, leaving a hand free to reach out and ruffle Ben's hair. His enthusiasm and wonder for things just has that effect, setting him a little bit more at ease. "It's not all it's cracked up to be, believe me. Sometimes it's nice having a landlord to call when something goes wrong instead of having to figure shit out for yourself. And knowing you're stuck with a mortgage for the next 20 years of your life is a little daunting. Enjoy the freedom of renting while you can, my man."

"Buzzkill," Ben mutters right before the door opens to reveal Troy grinning at them wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater either of them have ever seen, complete with actual bells sewn right to it that tinkle softly when he moves. 

"Fellas! Come in!" he steps aside so Ben and Sammy can knock the snow off their boots on the heavy-duty mat by the door. Sammy's already been here once, but it wasn't decked with boughs of holly the last time he was here. The Christmas tree is up and sparkling with lights and ornaments, by the fireplace crackling with an actual fire that makes the whole house smell like firewood and pine. 

There's a woman sitting on the couch who they can only assume is Loretta, and she looks up at them with a neutral expression, already holding a glass of wine despite it being only 10:30 in the morning. She's pretty, with a thin pointy face and long dark hair, wearing a full face of makeup and jeans while Troy is decked in Christmas jammies and sock-slippers. It's clear just by looking at her that she's closer to Sammy's age than Troy and Ben's. She says nothing to them, just sets her wine glass on the coffee table and stands up off the couch. 

"Loretta, these are my two good friends, Ben and Sammy," Troy introduces excitedly. "And fellas-- this is my bee-yoo-tiful wife, Loretta. It's so great to finally have ya'll in the same place." 

"It's so cool to meet you," Ben says, stepping out of his boots, with his presents tucked under his arm. "Troy talks about you a lot!"

"Loretta, it's great to finally meet you." Sammy says, stepping forward after he's taken off his boots as well. "Like Ben said, we've heard so much about you." 

He doesn't offer to shake her hand but does hold out the bottle of wine he brought. He'd taken a long time to pick it out, going for one that he wanted to make sure would be above reproach, not too expensive so it didn't seem like he was showing off but not too cheap either so it wouldn't seem like he was just getting any old thing. Maybe he was overthinking it but he had gotten the impression with Loretta maybe overthinking was the right way to go. "I brought this, as a little thank you from me and Ben for welcoming us into your home for the holiday. Everything looks great, you two really go all out on the decorations huh?"

"Troy put them up," Loretta says, her voice neutral as she reaches out to take the bottle, inspecting it with enough care that it makes Sammy slightly nervous. Her tone doesn't carry disdain exactly, but she doesn't sound like she wants to be lumped in with Troy's decorating habits. 

"Heh-- yeah, I always go ham on the decorations," Troy admits, taking the bottle from Sammy as Ben makes a beeline for the tree to set the presents he brought down on the floor among the others. There aren't many, like Troy had said, but that really doesn't matter. 

"You should see this place during easter," Loretta says, returning to her little corner of the couch and setting the bottle beside her glass. 

"Anyhow, I'm real glad you boys could make it. I've got cookies bakin' and dinner all ready for later, hot water on the stove for coffee or cocoa if you want it-- make yourselves comfy," Troy is like an overeager puppy, the only think keeping him from slipping and sliding on the hardwood floors are the sticky beans on the bottom of his socks. 

They open presents first. Loretta seems pleased enough by Troy's gift of perfume, she even puts some on her wrists right away, while Troy eagerly thanks her for her gift of a new pair of glasses that match the ones he's already wearing. His old ones were getting kind of cloudy and scratchy with age, and he delightedly puts on the nice shiny new ones. 

Ben is over the moon with his present from Troy: a real vintage kodak camera, complete with a roll of actual film-- and Sammy is modestly thrilled with his own present of a customized, reusable coffee cup with his name on it in handsome block lettering. Sammy notes that Loretta seems to be growing weary with the festivities after opening her present from Ben (he really hadn't known what to get her since he didn't know her at all-- he figured he couldn't go wrong with one of those pre-packaged Christmas gift kits from Walmart with all the kinds of chocolate) but he doesn't say anything about it. Troy just about cries when he opens his present from Ben and finds a photo of all three of them they took some time ago, already placed in a frame Ben decorated himself.

When Troy gives Loretta the go-ahead to hole up until dinner time, she slams back the rest of her wine in one shot and tears out of the room like her ass is on fire. Troy doesn't seem to notice her eagerness to get away from Sammy and Ben as he arranges his new picture frame on the mantle above the fireplace.

Sammy watches her go and tries not to wince when the door to what he assumes is her and Troy's room slams behind her. She really can't seem to get away from them fast enough and Sammy finds himself frowning despite the otherwise happy atmosphere in the living room between the three friends. 

"Hey Troy? Have we done something to offend Loretta?" Sammy asks, looking back over at the two younger men. "I've been trying to be on my best behavior but that never seems to do me much good around this town anyway."

"What?" Troy turns around from the fireplace to look after the place she'd run off to. "Aw, no, you haven't done anything wrong. She's one of those-- whatchacallems. Introverts," he explains. "She don't really like havin' people over all that often, so this is real special for us."

"Right." Sammy doesn't seem totally convinced but he drops it. Troy's explanation is as good as any. "Alright here, you still have to open my gift." He says, holding out a heavy wrapped package for Troy.

"I figured you only have so much shelf space and between your gift for Ben and his for you, this would be a great compromise. You only have so much shelf space after all." Sammy says when he opens up the beautiful leather bound photo album. "Good thing you two are such gossips."

"Oh, Sammy, this is just lovely, thank you," Troy says, opening it up to look at all the blank pages. "I can already tell what it'll look like all full up. You two are true blue, I tell you." 

Loretta doesn't make another appearance all day, holed up in their room while Sammy, Ben and Troy decorate Christmas cookies together, watch Troy's favorite Christmas movie, and start on dinner. It's a wonderful Christmas, the best one Sammy's had in a couple years-- Ben and Troy's laughter and joy are infectious, but there's still a sense of creeping dread, like something bad is coming. 

His fears are realized only after dinner is done, and Loretta finally unearths herself from the depths of the house to join them at the dinner table. Troy proudly presents a ham on the table, complete with dorky pineapple slices and marischino cherries on top, alongside potatoes, greens and rolls (and the basket of Christmas cookies they'd all lovingly decorated) And as they sit together to eat, each with a glass of the wine Sammy had brought-- except for Ben, who much prefers drinks he can actually take full mouthfuls of without wanting to cry-- the subject of work comes up among the usual smalltalk made over the dinner table. 

"So you two do some kind of... radio thing, right?" Loretta asks, cutting her ham into small bite-sized pieces. "The show Troy's always calling in to in the middle of the night."

"The Sammy and Ben Show on King Falls AM." Sammy says, naturally falling into his radio voice. He quickly laughs it off. "Sorry, force of habit, we must say it at least twenty times a night. Yeah, we're on from 2:00 am to 6:00 am. Troy is our favorite caller, definitely makes the time pass a little quicker."

"Must not be a very interesting show if you have to rely on another man who's doing his own job to make your night," Loretta says, a barb that Sammy feels right in his chest, but Troy just laughs it off. 

"Oh, Lory. Such a kidder," he says, taking a bite of his own potatoes while Ben shares a look with Sammy. It's hard to tell if she was really joking or not, she'd used the same dry tone she's been talking in since she first met them, but Troy seems determined to frame it as one whether it was or not, in an effort to keep the mood light. 

"Well we're the highest rated show in the area last I heard, pretty amazing for such a late time slot so I don't think we're doing too bad." Sammy says casually, picking at his meal. "What is it that you do Loretta? I don't think Troy has mentioned."

Troy immediately looks slightly nervous as he looks up from his meal, but he doesn't have enough time to change the subject before Loretta replies, 

"I work for Mayor Grisham." 

Ben's eyes immediately go wide as he looks from Loretta to Troy and then finally to Sammy, his expression slack like he just heard the worst news of his life. 

"On _purpose?"_ Ben blurts before he can stop himself. 

"Y-- yes on purpose, what does that even mean?" Loretta's face pinches in confusion and mild defensiveness.

Sammy is choking on his laughter, his eyes watering. He manages to regain his composure and takes a drink from his wine to clear his throat. "Well that would explain why Troy never told us. Didn't want to let us know you worked for the enemy."

He looks over at Troy, his eyes shining with a twisted sort of mirth, "It all makes sense now Troy, I completely get it."

"Now, fellas--" Troy starts, but Loretta cuts right in. 

"What do you mean _the enemy?_ Troy's a police officer, he works for Mayor Grisham, too," she gestures at Troy, her cheeks burning. 

"Sammy, come on, she's probably like-- trapped in a contract or something, right?" Ben asks, desperately grabbing for a straw of good in this sudden awful news. 

"I'm not _trapped_ ," she says, sounding more irritated by the second. "I work for Mayor Grisham because I respect him and what he's done for this town. Are you saying you don't?" 

"Oh lord," Troy groans, and pushes his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

"Seeing as I once got into a wrestling match with him on stage, in public, no. I can't say I do," Sammy says, his voice oozing with mock cheerfulness. "And before you say anything, he threw the first punch. And let's not forget him almost getting Troy killed running him off the road to win his re-election."

"That was _you?"_ Loretta turns the corner from irritated to full-on angry. "Troy, you're _friends_ with the man who _assaulted_ the mayor?" 

"Lory, come on now--" Troy tries desperately to smooth things over, locking eyes with an extremely apologetic-looking Ben. 

"He won his re-election fair and square," Loretta continues, blasting right past Troy. "I was a _proud_ member of his campaign, I was right there at the forefront the whole time and I know for a _fact_ that he won the ballot through his cheerful determined outlook not because of Troy's _reckless driving_." 

"Okay! Alright! Whoo doggie I need a breather, if ya'll will give me just a spell," Troy says, his chair squeaking on the floor as he stands up abruptly and heads around the corner into the hallway. 

"Now you've upset him," Loretta snaps at Sammy and Ben, throwing her napkin down on the table as she also leaves to follow Troy. 

Ben just turns a weak grimace towards Sammy. "Might've gone a bit far there, buddy," he whispers. "But _jack in the box jesus_ , Troy is married to a _Grisham campaigner?_ I feel like we've fallen through a wormhole into the mirror mirror timeline."

"She's delusional! Troy himself said someone drove him off the rode. Come on Ben anyone in town could tell you he's the probably the safest driver we have out there unless someone needs help quick," Sammy whispers back angrily. "She's just like Cynthia and the rest of Grisham's brainwashed mob who think he can do no wrong. Believing him even over Troy? You have got to be fucking kidding me." 

He's practically stood up from his chair at this point he's so mad and it's only Ben reaching out to put a hand on his arm that makes him realize how worked up he's gotten himself and he slowly sinks back down into his seat. "Sorry. I should go apologize to Troy right? I really messed up Christmas."

"Probably should," Ben's grimace deepens. "Honestly, I should too. Maybe we can go together? I think I heard them go out the back door."

The two of them head around the corner towards the door leading out onto the side of the wrap-around porch, but as they draw nearer, they hear the hushed voices of Loretta and Troy outside, and it gives them pause. 

"--dang it, I _asked_ you not to talk politics, Loretta."

"He asked me what I do for a living, was I supposed to just ignore him? _Lie_ to him?" 

"Well-- no, but you didn't have to get so heated--"

 _"I_ got heated? You should tell that to your mayor-punching friend!" 

"I _will_ and I _have_. I'm an _officer_ Loretta, you think I ain't had a talk with him before about when and where it's appropriate to throw a punch?"

"Well how should I know what you talk to him about? I don't listen to the stupid show, Troy!" 

Ben realizes he's clutching his fists so tightly his nails are digging into the meat of his palms, and he releases the tension to sigh at Sammy. "What should we do?" he whispers. "Is this-- this is totally eavesdropping. Should we just go back and sit down, or... what?"

"You go back," Sammy whispers, "I got this." He waits until Ben has started turning back before taking a couple very loud fake steps, enough to serve as a warning and cover his fake approach to the door.

He opens the back door and takes in the sight of Loretta smoking a cigarette off the bannister of the porch. She doesn't look back at the other man when he steps out into the cold night air, but she mutters, "Just fantastic." 

"Come on now, Lory, I'm beggin' ya," Troy says, pushing his glasses up to rub his hands over his face. "Is there somethin' you needed, Sammy? We'll be back inside in just a minute."

"Yeah I- uh, I wanted to apologize." Sammy starts, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "I shouldn't have gotten so heated in there. You know Grisham just rubs me the wrong way Troy, has from the very start. That's nothing against you Loretta, of course, and I shouldn't have made a scene because I have some personal disagreements with the man. I'm sorry about that." He gives a forced little chuckle. "And I say Ben is the emotional one."

Troy waves away a billow of smoke that comes from Loretta with a grimace that quickly melts into a smile. "Well shoot, Sammy, that's real polite of you," he says, glancing at Loretta, who doesn't seem eager to return the apology. "I'm sure Loretta appreciates you sayin' so, and accepts your apology."

Sammy wants to say she can say so for herself. He wants to say she shouldn't leave it to Troy to clean this up for her and she should grow up and meet him half way like an adult. But he doesn't, he just gives a tight smile and nods. "Alright, well, I'll see you back inside." And turns around to head back to the dining room.

He doesn't see her back inside. She comes back in several minutes after Troy and announces she'll be taking her dinner in the bedroom upstairs before bringing her plate and the remainder of Sammy's gifted bottle of wine with her. She doesn't reappear again all night as Sammy, Ben and Troy finish their dinner and bid one another farewell-- but honestly, it still wasn't the worst Christmas Sammy's ever had. 


	5. Chapter 5

The first of May is cursed. As far as Sammy is concerned the First of May is officially the most cursed day of the year. It’s not the worst. The worst day of the year is Decemeber 28th, it always will be from now on and that makes New Years and Christmas, and anything that happens around that time just awful but May 1st is cursed. Nothing good can happen on that day. Tim Jensen disappeared on that day. So did Emily Potter. And now. Now on this third May 1st in King fucking Falls Grisham decided to drag Shotgun Sammy Stevens back onto the airwaves for all the world to hear and hate. So now everyone in this stupid little town knew what he used to be and there would be no more hiding from them. He could try to explain how being that man had made him sick even as it brought in buckets upon buckets of money. How he couldn’t look himself in the mirror despite his voice filling the airwaves on more channels that he bothered to count. No one here would believe him. 

He hadn’t even had time to process that in the studio of course because, compounding the Curse of the First, Frickard had showed up with Emily and Ben had needed him. Ben needed him to be his rock and to hold him steady while he lost the love of his life all over again in a new and terrible way and Sammy had to watch his best friend crumble and his other best friend be lied to and hurt without even knowing and sit there helpless to do anything for either of them. Thinking about it makes his hands shake with fury and the need to reach out and slam his fists into something as hard as he can.

He doesn’t though. He can’t. Because Ben will notice if he comes to work with bloody and broken knuckles on Monday. Thank god the First had been on Saturday and he’s had all day to drown his sorrows, and he’ll have all day tomorrow to sleep them off before he’s expected to be back on air. Thank Jack in the Box Jesus for small mercies, he thinks as he lifts the bottle of gin to his lips. That’s all he’s done since he woke up after that disaster of a show. He got home, slept, woke up, and started drinking. Around six he ran out of booze and wasn’t nearly drunk enough yet so he set off for the King Falls Liquor Store where he bought a case of gin. A case that he’s been slowly working his way through in their parking lot in the comforting silence of his car.

He hadn't really thought ahead about what he would do once he finished every bottle in the case. He'll be too drunk to drive, but maybe he could just sleep it off in his car. The sun set ages ago, bathing him in comforting darkness, the only sounds around him are the soft clink of bottles every time he shifts, and the buzzing of the tall, flourescent lamp posts in the parking lot. 

It's some time around nine thirty that Troy recieves a call on the non-emergency line at the station. The owner of the King Falls liquor store has reported a drunk who has been parked in the lot for hours and needs to be taken away so they can close their store. Troy doesn't even turn his lights on as he pulls into the parking lot a few minutes later, but it does give him pause when he sees Sammy's car, of all people. 

Parking beside his friend's vehicle, he steps out and peers in the window to see Sammy lounging back in the driver's seat, apparently asleep, with a half-empty bottle cradled to his chest. Troy knocks lightly on the window and Sammy jerks awake with a snort as Troy teases, "Liscence and registration, sir?"

"'Fraid I can' do that offisr." Sammy slurs terribly as he rolls down his window-- manual crank style. He reeks of alcohol but he smiles up at Troy as if he doesn't have a care in the world. "Stolen car you see." He giggles at his own joke and takes another swig from the open bottle in his hand. 

When he looks back up at Troy he's more serious, almost apologetic when he speaks, his tone shifting on a dime. "I'm not going to drive Troy don' worry. M'not that stupid, I know better than to drive drunk. Tha'swhy I'm sitting here like this. You can take the keys if it makes you feel better."

"It would, in fact," Troy says, pocketing Sammy's keys when he hands them over. "How's about you park yourself in the passenger seat of my car and I'll drive you home once I square things with the owner?" 

Sammy gives him a slow-motion salute with two fingers, and the bottles spill out of his car in a veritable waterall once he opens the door. He nearly slips on one, and drops the open bottle which rolls away, spilling across the asphalt of the parking lot as he stumbles towards the officer's car. He watches Troy head inside the building, presumably to talk to the owner about letting Sammy's car stay overnight with a promise to pick it up in the morning since he doubts his good friend would shackle him with towing fees, and then Troy returns to the car. 

"Whoo-wee buddy, you smell stronger of gin than my old pappy," Troy reaches inside his breast pocket and pops open a little tin of altoids, offering one to Sammy. It won't get rid of the smell completely, but at least it'll take the edge off. "You wanna talk about what had you sittin' drunk in a parking lot, or...?"

Sammy takes the mint and fumbles it trying to pop it in his mouth, his coordination completely shot to hell. He manages to get the second one Troy offers him into his mouth and sinks down heavily into his seat, leaning his head against the cool glass of the car window. 

"You heard the show last night right?" He asks. "So. This is part two. Welcome to the backstage tour of the shotgun Sammy shit show." He gives a watery chuckle, tears starting to well up in his eyes. "Why'd he have to do that huh Troy? Why'd Grisham have to go and dig all that old shit up?"

Troy sighs, his voice heavy and sad as he pulls out of the parking lot and down the road. "I don't know, buddy... I just about lost my mind when I heard it on the radio. Especially since I've come to find out Loretta had a part in it. I had some real stern words with her about it, but she was just doin' her job... I can't be too mad at her, Grisham's the one who done did the deed."

"They're all going to hate me now." Sammy mumbles. "They should. I never wanted- no one was s'pposed to know. About any of that. Ever. I never wanted to bring that here. I don't want to be that guy here Troy. I never wanted to be that guy."

"I know. I know it, bud, you don't gotta tell me twice. I know the kinda man you are, I know you near as well as Ben, I'd wager. You got folks on your side, even after Grisham pulled a stunt like that. There's enough folks in this town who hate him so much that just on principle they're gonna love you now, even when they mighta felt neutral about you before. This ain't the end of the road, good buddy, I swear it ain't."

Sammy lapses into silence until they reach his apartment building and Troy pulls up to the front. Sammy leans forward to look up at the building through the windshield and sighs heavily. "I hate this place," He says, still slurring heavily. "I hate living here. I hate coming home to here every night."

Troy doesn't seem to know how to respond to that at first. He looks from Sammy up to the building, and then back at Sammy. "Well... you know there are other spots to rent in King Falls?"

"No. That won't help." Sammy says, shaking his head. "It's empty. It'll always be empty. It's not going to be home because- because-"

He chokes on his words and a sob tears from his throat and he collapses in on himself, wheezing hard and wrapping his arms around himself while he cries in the front seat of Troy's car.

"Whoa, whoa! Sammy-- okay, let's get you upstairs," Troy says, hastily unbuckling his belt and then Sammy's so he can climb out of the car and help his friend stand up. He loops Sammy's arm over his shoulders once he's pretty sure Sammy won't be able to walk, and he helps him up the stairs to his second-story apartment. He keeps him balanced against his hip with a hand around his waist to hold him upright as he unlocks his front door with one hand, and closes it with his heel once he manages to get Sammy in through the open door. 

When he relinquishes his friend in order to lock the front door, since he has a mind not to leave unless he's called away on an emergency, he turns back to find Sammy already tottering down the hall like a sleepy toddler, and he has to quickly come back up behind him and hook an arm around him to steer him towards the couch. 

"Alright, you stay sat right here, lemme get you some water," Troy says after peeling off Sammy's boots and tossing them in the front hall. 

"I wanna go _home_ ," Sammy hiccups between quiet sobs, tears streaming down his face and dripping off his chin. He lets Troy sit him down on the couch and takes the water he's given, sipping it dutifully but staring off into the middle distance like he's lost in a daze. "I just- I'm so tired of being alone Troy. I'm so _tired_ of being here alone. It isn't fair. It's been so long and it isn't fair." 

He leans heavily against Troy as he cries. "Don't tell Ben, please, but sometimes I can't even look at him because- He's just so- y'know?? And he got Emily back and I'm _happy_ I am but it's not- you know? I'm so sorry." He adds softly, shaking his head. "It's not right."

Troy's having an incredibly hard time following what Sammy's trying to say, he feels like he's missing a crucial piece of the puzzle that his friend forgot to give him, but he doesn't want to slow the roll in order to ask an extremely drunk man clarifying questions, not when he's pretty sure the things Sammy is saying now are things he's needed to get off his chest for a long time. 

"It ain't right," he agrees, despite not knowing exactly what he's agreeing to. It sounds like Sammy's missing an ex, if he had to guess. "Maybe you should get a cat or somethin' to keep you company?"

Sammy shakes his head. "No. Don't want company. Just- just want Jack." He sobs after the name, like it's being ripped out of him, as if saying that simple name is one of the most painful things he's ever had to do and a fresh wave of sobs wracks his large frame making his shoulders shake.

"Aw, shitfire, you're boutta make _me_ cry," Troy says, sitting down on the couch beside Sammy, and he tugs him sideways into his arms. "C'mere buddy, it's okay. You just cry your little heart out, I'm right here."

Troy's words open the floodgates and there's no holding Sammy back now. He turns and openly weeps into Troy's shoulder, letting out years of built up pain. Now and then that name slips out again, 'Jack' in between a litany of I'm sorrys and Isn't fairs that spill forth from him before he finally cries himself dry and he's left shaking with just the adrenaline and emotional exhaustion.

It's then that the consequences of all his drinking comes back in a horrible way, and he tears out of Troy's arms, barely making it to the bathroom in time to vomit. Troy is at his side in a second, holding his messy hair back and carefully gathering it out of his face to tie it into a neater bun at the back of his head, providing him with pleasant tingling sensations all down his neck and back as his friend plays with and pulls gently on his hair, while he unloads everything in his stomach into the toilet bowl. 

Troy manages to convince him to brush his teeth before helping him into his bedroom, and then he texts Loretta from Sammy's bedside to let her know he won't be able to make it home until morning, seeing as he has a drunk friend to babysit. He doesn't tell her which friend, but he's pretty sure she knows, anyway. 

Troy is on his way out of the bedroom when Sammy reaches out and grabs his wrist, latching on surprisingly well for how drunk and unstable he's been all night. 

"You can't tell anyone," He pleads, eyes wide and fearful. His tone is desperate, almost begging as he looks up at Troy from the bed. "You can't- please Troy. You can't tell anyone about Jack. No one can know. Promise me you won't tell anyone? Especially Ben. Please Troy."

Troy looks down at Sammy with a hurt in his chest as he takes in the drunk, terrified, sad expression on his face. He still doesn't even really know who Jack is, other than an ex, he's pretty sure he doesn't even know for sure whether Jack's a man or a woman since he's reasonably certain he didn't hear any pronouns during Sammy's drunk incoherent sobbing, but he's willing to bet it's a man just based on Sammy's reaction. 

"Swear on my badge, I'll never tell a soul," Troy promises, turning his hand around to grip Sammy's wrist in return. "I'll take it to my grave, if I gotta."

Sammy looks at Troy for a moment longer, seeming to search his face for something that will reassure him of his answer. Whatever it is he seems to find it because he gives Troy a weak, watery smile and finally lets go of his wrist, his arm falling limply at his side again on the bed. 

"Thank you," he says softly before turning onto his side and closing his eyes. By the time Troy reaches the bedroom door Sammy is already snoring softly into his pillow.

Troy leans against Sammy's bedroom door for a moment as soon as he's released, taking a few deep breaths. Whatever happened to Sammy, he didn't really get the details. A bad breakup, it sounds like. Maybe from someone who he left behind when he moved to King Falls-- it might have been the _reason_ for the move. It really isn't Troy's place to speculate. 

He keeps his radio on him all night just in case he gets called elsewhere, but luckily it's a slow and quiet night, and he's able to watch over Sammy's room to make sure he doesn't get up and drunk-stumble out the door and break his neck on the apartment building stairs. He cozies up on the couch in his uniform (not the first time he's slept in it) and wakes up bright and early in time to start putting together some breakfast. He doesn't know if Sammy even eats breakfast, but he does know that he's liable to have a bitch of a hangover, and some nice greasy bacon will cut through that like a knife. 

When Sammy wakes up his head is pounding and his mouth feels like its lined with cotton in the worst possible way. The last time he felt this bad was years ago after he'd had to do a three day public appearance as Shotgun and keep the persona up the entire time, leaving him no time alone with Jack and in the end he'd ended up drinking what was probably half the hotel bar to try to drown some of self-loathing the weekend had stirred up. 

Jack had taken him home then and he'd woken up to the smell of bacon and eggs wafting from their shared kitchen. Thinking back on it he can almost smell them now too. Then he takes a second sniff and opens his eyes, because he can smell bacon. He can definitely smell bacon coming from the kitchen and ringing through his pounding, hungover skull is the name "Jack" over and over as Sammy throws himself out of bed. 

He practically runs down the short hall from his bedroom into the combined living room/dining room/kitchen, expecting to see the broad shoulders and dark hair of his fiancé standing at the stove as if nothing had happened. Only to be met by the broad shoulders and blond hair of deputy Troy Krieghauser.

Crestfallen Sammy slumps a little and takes a few slower, disheartened steps into the living room. "Um. Morning Troy?"

"Oh, you're up earlier than I expected," Troy says, looking up into the crusty, exhausted face of his friend. "I just figured you could use a li'l pick-me-up after the night you had. Bacon's under the paper napkin there to keep it warm, try not to pat off the grease-- it'll help with the headache. I put on coffee but I don't know how you like it exactly, and I've gotta couple sunny-sides cookin' in the pan now but DJ Troy takes requests."

"Black coffee is fine," Sammy says, going to grab a piece of bacon. It's good, Troy really knows how to cook and he made the bacon just right, crispy and juicy and dripping with grease that Sammy will definitely be regretting tomorrow but needs right now. "Speaking of last night, why are you in my house making me breakfast? Did I call you?"

Troy glances over at Sammy, his brow furrowing. "Shoot, uh. You don't remember nothin' about last night? What's the last thing you can recall?"

"I remember....getting to the liquor store? Buying gin?" Sammy says, thinking back. His head is still pounding and trying to cut through the fog only makes it worse. "Yeah that's about it. Gin. As much gin as he would let me buy at one time."

"Yeah, he called me, told me to come sack a drunk in his parking lot," Troy says, pouring Sammy a mug of black coffee to set beside his plate at the table. "I took you home, and--" 

He glances over at his friend, who looks up at him with sad, tired eyes. Sammy had begged him not to tell anyone about 'Jack' including _Ben_ who he thought knew everything about Sammy. That really drives home for him just how important it is that nobody knows about this ex of his, and the emotional display of the previous night hit Troy hard. Sammy misses Jack, loved Jack so much that he drank himself half to death after being confronted with his past, and he gets the feeling that he'd only bring all that up all over again if he told Sammy what he'd sobbed into his shoulder last night. Sammy _had_ told him not to tell anyone-- maybe that could even include him. If he remembered later on his own, fine, but Troy Kreighauser keeps his word. 

"And you threw up a whole lot," Troy says. "That's just about it. I stuck around to make sure you wouldn't get up and hurt yourself, seein' how you don't strike me as the sort to get blackout drunk too often."

Sammy sighs a little in relief and gives Troy a shaky smile as he gets himself a cup of coffee. He doesn’t bother to correct him that he’s gone on more than his fair share of benders in his life, especially in the last three years or so. There’s no need to further ruin Troy’s image of him. Especially when things could have been a lot worse by the sounds of it.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that Troy, I really am. I guess that whole Shotgun thing just got to me more than I thought. And Frickard.” He spits out the name like a curse. “Are you staying for breakfast? You should after you did all this hard work.”

Troy examines his handiwork a he slides the eggs onto the plate, and then glances up at the clock on the wall. He has a little bit of time before Loretta expects him home. It'd be pushing it, but right now with as upset as he is at her for having a hand in the Shotgun attack ad, it might not be the worst thing in the world if he misses her before she goes off to work. 

"Sure, I think I can spare the time," he says, carrying the plates over to the breakfast table so he can sit across from Sammy. He grabs a couple pieces of toast from the toaster while he's at it and the two of them eat in companionable silence, where the sound of silverware clinking is more loud than their own breathing. 

It's not for several minutes that Troy speaks up, unable to contain himself any longer while he watches Sammy sullenly eat his breakfast. It's excruciating, knowing that Sammy is holding some kind of awful pain inside him that he hasn't told anyone about, not even Ben. He was so drunk that he babbled about his pain to Troy, something he hasn't even told his best friend sober-- and yet still had the wherewithal to beg Troy not to tell anyone. That's a testament to how scared and sad he is, and he's just been... what, suffering? All this time?

"You know," he starts, somewhat shaky. "If you uh--" if what, if he ever needs someone? He's got Ben, and Troy knows better than to encroach on Best Friend territory. So he tries again. "You know you can always tell me anything. I'm here for you, good buddy... always."  
The smile Sammy gives him is tight and he hopes not tinged with too much bitterness. He stabs at his eggs and pushes them around the plate the way he always does when he doesn’t really feel up to eating but doesn’t want to make it obvious and avoids meeting Troy’s eyes when he finally speaks.

“I know that Troy. Really I do. And I’m sorry that I never told you and Ben about the Shotgun thing.” He sighs and pushes a few strands of hair out of his face from where they’ve fallen loose from the bun he fell asleep in. “I should have. I just wanted you, the whole town really but especially the two of you, to respect me and to get to know the me like this not- not that. And there are some things that are just too hard to tell even your best friends I guess.” 

He finally looks up at Troy, eyes soft and sad and just a little bit hopeful that the deputy has understood what he’s trying to say but can’t bring himself to. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 

He thinks then if there was anyone other than Ben he would tell the whole truth to it would be Troy. Strong, dependable, comforting Troy. Who would never judge him or think less of him if he laid himself totally open to him. It might even be nice to let him share some of the burden and let himself lean on someone. But as soon as he has that thought he pushes it away. He can’t put that on Troy, he doesn’t need Sammy’s baggage. He’s already done more than enough for him as it is anyway. 

“I just hope you know I didn’t keep it from you guys because I don’t trust you or anything.” He adds as a final reassurance.

Troy does everything in his power to keep the disappointment from his face. He doesn't want to give away to Sammy what he'd confided in him, drunk out of his mind. He doesn't want to worry or embarrass him with that on top of his grief over his Shotgun persona being unearthed. 

So he just reaches across the table to squeeze Sammy's hand and gives a comforting, "I know that. 'Course I know that. Hell, we're thick as thieves, you don't gotta convince me none. Everyone's got their sordid pasts-- heck I even got one of my own. What Grisham did, it ain't your fault. And you ain't a bad person for tryin' to make a change in your life. I'm proud of you, Sammy. Maybe prouder than I've been of anyone in my whole life."

Tears well up in Sammy’s eyes and he has to look away while he blinks them away. “Don’t say that,” He says quietly. “Troy I appreciate it, from you especially but I don’t deserve that. I’m happy enough that you don’t hold who I used to be against me, let’s just leave it at that.” 

He takes a few bites of his meal before pushing his half full plate away and forcing a laugh. “Look at me. Must still be emotional from last night.”

"Aw, it's alright. I cried like a baby, too," Troy says, feeling that pit waver in his stomach. He doesn't feel like things are resolved, but it's not really his place to push for a resolution. His feelings about Sammy's ex don't matter. "Sympathy crier," he admits when Sammy gives him a concerned look.

“I can’t say I’m surprised.” Sammy chuckles, a real honest laugh even if it’s still a little watery. “Thanks again Troy. I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”

"Sleep in your car, for starters," Troy says, just to get Sammy to smile. 

He drops Sammy off at the parking lot so he can drive his car home and clean up and hopefully get some more sleep before having to wake up and be a person for any reason. As he drives away, he's struck with the fact that he'd rather be taking care of Sammy right now than going home to his own wife, and he's... not honestly sure what to do with that information. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter goes more into detail about when troy was assaulted by pearl and jacob williams. tread lightly if frank discussions about sexual harrassment and assault upset you

Everyone in town knows that Jacob William has a hard time hearing and understanding the word no when it comes to sex. He's been #metoo'd a couple times locally with his predatory "jokes" and inability to keep his hands to himself. He's never gone so far as to properly attempt to force himself on a person before... yet. Everyone knows it's just a matter of time. 

The night that Troy called in with Pearl and Jacob Williams in his car was a nightmare for more than one reason. They found out that Tim1 is working for the Science Institute on the same night they had to listen to Troy be assaulted live on air by Pearl and Jacob. 

Some people might not call it sexual assault. Those people would be wrong, if you asked Sammy Stevens. Jacob and Pearl had both been making lewd, unwarranted comments towards him all night, and then physically held him down and tied him up while Pearl took her top off and climbed on him. It was nothing short of nauseating to listen to. And the worst part was knowing that they both got away with it. 

It takes a couple of days before Sammy and Troy both manage to get some time free to meet for breakfast but as soon as their schedules line up Sammy insists they meet at Rose’s. He’s been a worried wreck ever since that night, even if he’s careful not to let it bleed into his on-air personality, keeping it carefully under wraps around anyone but Ben. He saved the tapes, marking them and making back ups just in case Troy would want to use them to bring charges against Pearl and Jacob. The whole thing makes him sick to his stomach just thinking about it, he can’t even imagine what Troy must be feeling.

He gets to Rose’s ten minutes early and gets them a booth in a quiet back corner away from the other patrons and orders them both coffee, getting milk and sugar for Troy the way he knows his friend likes it and keeping his own black while he waits for him to arrive.

Troy looks like a mess when he finally arrives. He hasn't shaved in a day or two it looks like, and he looks overall underslept. His uniform is clean and pressed as always, but he just looks a little haggard around the edges as he sits down across from Sammy.

"No Ben this morning?" he asks, a crackle of exhaustion in his voice. 

"No I thought you and I could talk just the two of us." Sammy says, brow furrowing in concern as he passes Troy the cup of coffee he'd ordered for him, already made up the way he knows he likes it. "I thought that might be better, a little easier on you. How are you doing man, you look...not great."

"You gotta keen eye, bud," Troy mutters, running his hand back through his honey-colored hair. "The past few days have been... shit, they've been rough. There's no other word for it but that. I've been so exhausted, I can't even sleep-- does that make sense?"

"Of course," Sammy assures him. He reaches across the table and squeezes Troy's wrist. Normally he isn't one to initiate contact like that, careful to keep his hands to himself for fear of giving himself away or making someone uncomfortable, Ben being the usual exception, but Troy clearly needs the comfort today. "After what happened with the Williams- Troy I am so sorry that happened to you. If there is anything I can do to help, let me know, please. We have tapes from that night, if you need them to press charges just say the word."

"Press charges?" Troy's mood does a quick 180 from tired to confused. "Press charges for what?"

"For Jacob and Pearl? Sexually assaulting you?" Sammy says, now equally as confused. "Troy come on they deserve to have charges brought against them for what they did."

Troy immediately feels a cold, uncomfortable drop in his stomach and he looks around the restaurant like he was expecting to see people huddled around them on all sides listening in. He feels a queasy flush rise on his cheeks as he looks back towards Sammy, his ears turning red as well. 

"They didn't do nothin'. Nothin' _real_ anyhow, just-- over the clothes rubbing-- it don't matter. I'm an officer of the law, I can take a little scuffle without turnin' inside out."

Sammy frowns hard at him, almost disappointed. "Troy it wasn't _nothing_. They forced themselves on you. I heard it, Ben heard it, everyone listening heard it. Maybe it was just a little over the clothes rubbing but that's not nothing, that's still assault. You very clearly told them both to back off repeatedly and they didn't. Troy they _tied you down_."

"That's just-- it's just--" it's just what? Just how they are? Troy can't say that, not when so many people have reported being harrassed by Jacob, especially. It was just Pearl, not Jacob, who touched him? That doesn't make it _better_. He finally settles on, "It'd just me my word against theirs anyhow, because all we got is audio evidence. And considerin' I'd have to run it past Gunderson-- I really don't wanna tell him I'm feelin' some type of way just cause I was bad-touched by a couple of hillbillies. He'll call me a bad officer, emotionally compromised or worse. It just ain't worth the hassle, Sammy."

"Would you say that if it was Deputy Katie Lynch in your position?" Sammy asks. He knows its maybe a little dirty to pull something like that, to make Troy consider it that way when he's probably right. Gunderson will just tell him to man up and stop whining but the least he can do is admit to himself what really happened rather than brush it off as no big deal like this.

"Gunderson don't have it out for Deputy Lynch," Troy says, his knuckles going white as he grips his coffee cup in both hands, unable to meet Sammy's eye. He sighs, his shoulders sagging and his hands going lax, and for a moment it looks like he's about to give in and agree with Sammy, but then he says something that the other man didn't expect. "That ain't the problem, anyhow... I can deal with a bad night easy, but I've been sleepin' on the couch since it happened on account of Loretta bein' furious with me for layin' eyes on another woman without a shirt on."

Sammy's expression darkens and his tone dips low and dangerous with simmering anger when he speaks. "She _what?_ You have got to be _kidding_ me Troy. She knows- You told her it wasn't your fault right? You told her what happened? That Pearl Williams forced herself on you? That you didn't exactly have a choice? It's not like you were out hanging out at Sassy's with Chet for Pete's sake. Jack in the box Jesus."

"Yeah, I told her. I don't think she believed me. She didn't hear it on the radio when it happened, but I didn't want her to hear about it from nobody else, so I told her that I got attacked and tied down by the Williamses and that Pearl weren't wearin' her shirt, and-- I dunno," he takes a long drink from his mug of coffee and sighs again, his voice cracking slightly. "I just don't know what to do, man. I'm tired, I'm angry, I'm scared-- and I can't be nothin' cause if Gunderson figures out I'm anythin' other than perfectly fit for duty, he'll put me down like Old Yeller behind the station. He's just been _lookin_ ' for an excuse, I just know it."

"Fuck. That." Sammy says, so angry he's practically shaking with it. He downs the rest of his coffee in one shot, ignoring how it burns his throat and slams down the mug. "If Loretta won't listen to you _I'll_ talk to her. I'll bring the tapes, I'll _make_ her listen. She has no right to be treating you like this Troy, no _fucking_ right do you hear me? You were _assaulted_ by those maniacs and she should be _helping_ you right now, making you feel better and working through this. And I'll go tell her so right now. As for Gunderson, well the guy scares the hell out of me but I'll tell him the same too just say the word."

"Sammy-- just-- lower your voice, would ya?" Troy says, looking around in a panic. This early in the morning the only other person in the place is all the way on the other side of the restaurant, but even he's glancing over now at the volume of Sammy's voice. He reaches out and grabs Sammy's wrist to stop him from getting right up out of his seat, like he was about to _walk_ to Troy's house. 

"Sorry," Sammy says, much quieter and sinking back into his seat again. "I just can't stand the idea of you being treated like this. You don't deserve it. No one does! But- especially not you Troy. You're one of the best people I know, one of the few truly good and decent people out there in this crazy world and the thought of them pushing you around like this it just gets me heated you know?"

"Well what's the alternative, tough guy?" Troy asks, not unkindly. "You march into Mayor Grisham's office and play your li'l casette for the whole room to hear? I don't want Loretta to hear that, anyhow. She gets a bug up her behind once in a while, she'll eventually get lonely and ask me to come sleep in the bedroom again once she's satisfied she's made her point and punished me enough. I just gotta wait for it to blow over."

"You shouldn't be _punished_ at all. You shouldn't be _waiting_ for her like this. She should trust you." Sammy grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant teenager. "I just think you deserve better than you're being treated right now. I want to help you somehow."

Troy looks for a moment like he desperately wants to say something, but the tension is broken when Rose finally comes by to set down their food for them, and chirps a good morning, completely oblivious to the mood at the table. Troy turns on the charm as usual, chatting with her like nothing is wrong, but the way his expression falls and all his colors fade as soon as she walks away breaks Sammy's heart to pieces. 

"Anyhow... I appreciate you for pullin' those tapes, but if you ask me, I think you should just burn' em. Ain't nobody should hear that, ever again."

"Burn the evidence? Really officer?" Sammy teases, trying to break some of the tension at the table with a raised eyebrow and a forced joke but it falls flat even to his ears. "I'll put them away but I'm not going to destroy them. You might change your mind down the line, and you'll want them then. So, just in case we'll keep them out of sight and out of mind for now."

"It ain't _evidence_ if I ain't pushin' charges," Troy says, sounding tired. "If I had my druthers, I'd never think about that night again. I'd much rather we just move on and pretend it didn't even happen." 

He's not so lucky. Just about a week later, The Dark stows away in his car, and Gunderson cites both that event and being hijacked and joyridden by Pearl and Jacob as two reasons Troy is unfit for his badge. With his dignity and his purpose stripped away, it's all he could do to call Sammy and Ben in tears and tell them what happened. 

Grief isn't a strong enough word to describe his feelings. He hadn't even been off the couch yet before Loretta found out about his suspension, and boy had he been in a world of hurt, then. He thought he was in trouble before. 

Sammy's phone lights up with Ben's number pretty much as soon as he turns it on the next day, and he doesn't even get a 'hello' in edgewise before Ben is already talking. 

"God, where have you _been?_ Nevermind-- probably sleeping-- whatever, it doesn't matter. It's fine, it's fine, I haven't slept at all so I'm just _freaking out_ on so much caffeine right now I think I could phase through a solid wall," he babbles energetically, his voice in a low hiss.

"Ben you're vibrating," Sammy says wearily, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "You're not going to be able to do the show tonight if you don't get some sleep bud, you know that. What's going on and try to go slowly, I haven't had a drop of coffee yet and can't keep up with you at Alvin and the Chipmunks speed."

"Okay. Okayokayokay," Ben takes a few deep breaths, his voice still a low murmur. "Troy has been on my couch all night and all day. Loretta kicked him out."

"Fuck!" Sammy curses loudly, falling backwards onto his bed and closing his eyes. He shouldn't have woken up. Today was looking much more promising before he opened his eyes. "Son of a bitch. What the hell was she thinking? He's there now? How's he taking it?"

"Pretty bad, man," Ben whispers. "He's been crying on and off all night, he hasn't moved from the couch once. He won't eat, I don't think he's even taken off his _belt_ all night. He's in rough shape and I don't know what to do. I keep asking him if he wants or needs anything and he just says no to everything. Gunderson took fucking everything from him, dude, what am I supposed to do here?"

"Make him some coffee, I'll be there in fifteen minutes," Sammy replies. He doesn't wait for an answer, just hangs up and rolls himself out of bed. He should have known today was going to be awful. 

While he gets dressed he makes a mental list of everyone he blames for how badly his day is starting out and sends a silent plea to whatever energy flows through King Falls that they'll all get what's coming to them eventually. 

He makes it to Ben's apartment in twelve minutes, letting himself in with his spare key, the one Ben had given him for emergencies but he ends up using more often than not for grocery deliveries when he knows Ben has gotten himself too worked up over a project and forgotten to get anything resembling real food in over a week. The first thing he does is put Ben straight to bed, who is asleep almost before his head hits the pillow, before he finds Troy on Ben's couch just like Ben had said, looking to be in a sorry state, his eyes red rimmed with tear tracks down his cheeks and lets out a weary sigh.

"Hey man," He says softly, coming over to sit next to him.

"Hey," Troy replies without looking up, his eyes fixed on the mug of coffee sitting untouched on the table in front of him. The TV is on, but muted, and the remote is far enough away from him that Sammy's willing to bet it's been muted for a long time. "Did Ben call you? He didn't have to do all that, I'm just... in a funk. It'll pass. I'll be okay."

"Sure you will. But you're not right now," Sammy says gently, putting a hand on Troy's shoulder. "And that's okay. You don't have to be okay right now. No one expects you to be. You don't have to try to be for us. We're your friends and we'll be here for you no matter what."

Troy's expression breaks and the tears return, and he hides his face behind his hands, grinding the heels into his eyes. "I just feel so _stupid_ ," he wheezes, his voice cracking. "I feel like the dumbest hick this side of the country. Couldn't apprehend a couple of folks who damn well deserved it, couldn't be bothered to check the back seat of my damn cruiser-- got everything taken from me for it, and I _deserve_ it. What kinda cop am I? I'm too soft-- Gunderson was right, I _ain't_ fit for the badge."

"Troy," Sammy says sternly, his grip on Troy's shoulder tightening just a little. He turns the other man towards him and with his free hand lifts his face so he's looking up at him. "That is bullshit. Complete bullshit, you hear me? Listen to me alright, there is no one in this town better fit for that badge than you. No one cares about this town or its people more than you. No one is braver or kinder or more willing to go above and beyond for the people of this town than the man sitting in front of me right now. And Judd Gunderson can go jump in the lake for all I care. That man is _scum_. Bullying _scum_. _Fuck_ him, alright? You are a good man Troy Krieghauser and exactly the sort of cop this town needs. One mistake doesn't change that."

"One mistake _did_ change that," Troy says, finally unearthing himself from the blanket Ben had draped over him hours ago in order to sit up, feeling uncomfortable with being touched kindly right now. "That's all it took for Gunderson to justify lettin' me go. Two mistakes, I guess... shit, Loretta ain't never been so angry at me before. I thought when I told her about Pearl that's the maddest she could ever get, but I was so wrong. I ain't never seen her like that before. I ain't never been _kicked out_ before. Well... not by Loretta, anyhow."

"Which, excuse me for saying this, is bullshit too." Sammy says, pulling his hands back to give Troy his space. "You made a mistake at work, it's not your fault. Its that stupid vigilante's fault, he's the one who fucked you over. He's the one Loretta should be pissed at, not you! Gunderson too! But Loretta should never have kicked you out over this. You didn't do anything to deserve it."

"I wish I'd never taken the call to pick up the Williamses," Troy says, rubbing his hands over his gaunt, tired face. "I shoulda just let Katie take it. She offered to, and I said no cause I didn't wanna make her shift go on longer than it had to. I always do that, don't I? I keep doin' good things for folks and gettin' hurt by it in some other way. Done it my whole life-- god I'm just pitiful, lookit me. Cryin' on my best buddy's couch in my badgeless uniform for 12 hours. I gotta get outta here, I gotta-- I gotta get Loretta back."

Sammy almost bites his tongue. He really does. He considers it for a long second, sitting there on Ben's couch. He could just let this go, let Troy go back to Loretta and let things continue as they are and let him do what he thinks will make him happy without interference. It would be easy, it would be safe. But one look at his friend's tear stained face and he just can't. 

"Is that really what you want Troy?" He asks gently, his tone as neutral as he can manage.

Troy is so taken aback by the question that he just sits there in shock for a moment, inspecting Sammy's face, waiting for the inquiry to untangle and make sense in his brain. But the longer he sits there in silence, it doesn't get any clearer. 

"What are you sayin'? Do I really wanna go home to my _wife?_ Of course I do. What are you tryin' to imply?"

"I'm just wondering if you're really happy there. With Loretta." Sammy asks carefully, still keeping that same neutrality in his tone. "I wasn't implying anything Troy I just wondered if you're happy like this. Do you really want to go back to her because that's what you want and what will make you happiest or because that's what's normal and expected?"

Troy feels like he's just been stabbed in the chest-- not because what Sammy's saying is hurtful, but because he's hearing words said now to his own two ears that evil little voices have whispered to him while he fails to fall asleep beside his own wife. It feels shameful, like somehow one of those awful little voices had crawled out through his ear and found a home inside his best friend's mouth. 

He leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees and hanging his head in his hands. "She can be... a li'l unfair sometimes, but she don't mean to be. Sometimes she's the best person in the world, she can be so sweet and tender, too. It ain't all bad all the time."

"Punishing you after you were assaulted isn't a little unfair Troy. Or throwing you out of your house after you've been fired. Or shouting at you for being a little late getting home because you got breakfast with your friends." Sammy points out as evenly as he can manage. He's fighting hard not to let any of his old anger at Loretta color his tone. "Not bad all the time doesn't mean it's good either."

"She wasn't punishing me for gettin'..." Troy can't even bring himself to say the word as he grips his biceps, unable to look up at Sammy. "Look, she had a good reason, alright? I didn't wanna say it cause... well, cause it's somethin' I ain't proud of, lookin' back, but... it's like your Shotgun thing." 

He sits up a little straighter and finally pulls his glasses out of his pocket to clean them with the edge of Ben's blanket, desperately needing something to do with his hands as old dread comes climbing up the back of his throat. 

"Loretta ain't my first wife, Sammy," he says softly when he finally works up the courage. "My first wife left me cause I was unfaithful... and Loretta knows that." 

Sammy doesn't say anything for a minute while that sinks in. He honestly can't imagine Troy, upstanding do-gooder, perfect in every way Troy, not being faithful. Not being the perfect husband/boyfriend/lover. Maybe that does go some way to explain Loretta's behavior, her jealousy at least following the situation with Pearl and her need to know where Troy is all the time.

Still, it doesn't sit right with him. It might explain it but it doesn't excuse it. Not when she's hurting Troy like this. 

"Okay," Sammy says finally. "That explains some things but that doesn't make how she's treating you any better. She can't hold that over you Troy and use that as an excuse for treating you poorly."

"She was so mad when I told her," Troy mutters, wringing his hands around his glasses so hard they squeak. Either what Sammy said hadn't sunk in, or he just didn't agree, because he doesn't address it at all. "I didn't tell her until about a month into our marriage. Everything was so wonderful up 'till that point, I can't help but think like I ruined the whole thing by tellin' her. I just wanted to be honest, I didn't want her to find out from no one else and think like I was hidin' it. She accused me of entrapment, said she never woulda married me if she knew beforehand that I cheated on my last wife. She later took it back when she calmed down, but sometimes I think back on that and it hurts in my chest so bad I look down expectin' blood." 

Finally slipping his glasses back onto his nose, he decides they aren't clean enough and takes them back off to continue scrubbing. "I was stupid, you know? I got married so young, man, _stupid_ young. I was 17, just outta high school, and so was Lindsay. Met her right here in King Falls, we'd been datin' for four years through middle and high school. Figured we could take on the world together, we were both dumb kids without a thought in our heads or a care in our hearts. Didn't even last a year."

"I understand that. First love can get kind of crazy," Sammy says with a sad little smile. "Gets out of hand. Do you want to tell me what happened? You don't have to, of course. That's your story, I understand if you'd rather keep it to yourself."

"It's my Shotgun story," Troy says, sniffling as his chest clenches up just at the memory. "I didn't go out the night it happened with a mind to be unfaithful, you know? It's not like I went searchin' for an excuse to have an affair. I had an older friend, a lady named Geraldine who was college age when I was graduatin', and she was gettin' married, too. I was invited along to her bachelorette party cause she thought it'd be funny, and she knew I was married so she didn't think it'd be a problem if she took me along to see some strippers or whatever. It was fine, I just shielded my eyes durin' that part-- but then her best friend and party planner Johnessa took us to a gay bar."

Sammy feels an immediate drop of dread mixed with a flutter of hopefulness at this sudden twist in the story that when combined, makes a very queasy feeling in his guts. 

"I ain't never been to a gay bar before. I was born in conservative Texas, deep inner-city in Bible country, raised up like a good and proper Christian boy, and then we moved to King Falls when I was around 13 to escape my pappy knowin' where we were, and there ain't exactly a bumpin' queer night life here, neither. I just... I got stupid. I'd been havin' all these gnarly questions in my belly for years whenever I'd look at other boys and felt the same way I would when I'd look at girls, but I didn't know what that meant for so long, and I didn't know if I'd get in trouble with my ma, so I just... ignored 'em. 'Till that night when I had a few too many and one of the fellas in them spangly little britches climbed in my lap right at center stage. I was so embarrassed I didn't know what to do, I just hid my face. Wasn't till later when he found me takin' a much-needed breather in the alley beside the bar that... stuff happened."

Sammy can feel his cheeks heating up, trying not to imagine what sort of 'stuff' Troy might mean. He clears his throat and looks away, down at his hands fisted in his lap, squeezed so tight his knuckles are turning white. There's so much he wants to say right now that his tongue feels weighed down by all the words. He wants to tell Troy he understands, he has a similar story, without the unfaithfulness but suddenly finding himself confronted with answers to questions he had hidden away inside himself his whole life. He wants to tell him it's not his fault and he should have been able to explore and find himself long before he had to settle down. He wants to ask how after that he had somehow ended up with someone like Loretta anyway.

Most of all he wants to ask if he still has those feelings sometimes, or if that night had just been a one time thing to get it out of his system.

He doesn't though. He clears his throat and says, "I- uh- can't say that was what I was expecting exactly. But it sounds like you made a mistake after having a few drinks in you and being in pretty unusual circumstances. Its not as if Loretta has any reason to suspect you of being a serial cheater, right?"

"No... she doesn't. But she was cheated on by her previous husband, too. Somethin' I also didn't know before we got married. And that wasn't just a one-and-done thing neither, he'd been havin' an affair off to the side for somethin' like six years. He'd lied to her about all kinds of things, like he never told her he got a vasectomy, just let her believe that they would have kids some day if they kept tryin'... he was honest to god a real piece of work, and if I could set my teeth into him one day I wouldn't hold back none," Troy sighs, and finally places his glasses back on his face, sitting back on the couch. 

"Sometimes I feel like it was a mistake to marry Loretta. I tell myself it wasn't a rebound, but I'd barely been single for a year before I married her. She was older than me-- a whole lot older, and she seemed so wise and traveled. She ain't from King Falls originally, her family is from Maine, she just wound up here practically by chance. Moved about as far away from her cheatin'-ass ex husband as she could get, and landed here. We only knew eachother a couple months before we got married. I guess I don't have a great track record for thinkin' real hard on it before gettin' married, do I?" he gives a suffering, wet little chuckle.

"Troy, if you think that do you think that maybe that's a sign that it isn't the best fit?" Sammy asks, leaning back on the couch too and watching his friend's face. "I'm not trying to attack you and your marriage here buddy I just really want you to think about what's going to make you happy. Because you deserve to be happy. You deserve all the happiness in the fucking world and I just haven't been seeing a lot of that from you lately."

"She deserves it too, Sammy. That poor woman's been hurt more times than I care to count. She ain't just a reprehensible bitch in spite of what you might think of her--" his tone comes out just a little harsher than he meant it, and he sighs, immediately sagging. "That was unfair of me, I'm sorry. She ain't just all wrapped up in herself all the time, she's... guarded. She's scared. She just-- she needs a good husband. A husband who listens to her and gives her what she needs. A husband who don't get rubbed up on by a topless girl and fired in the same week. I wanna be that husband for her somethin' fierce."

Sammy sighs. Sometimes he wants to take Troy by the shoulders and shake him. "None of that was your fault Troy. You can't blame yourself for that. Especially not what happened with Pearl and Jacob, and don't try to argue with me about that. If they had done the same thing to Ben or Emily or anyone else in this town you would have locked them up and thrown away the key and you know it."

"Maybe so. But they didn't, they did it to me. And I got the power to decide what I wanna do with it, and I wanna turn this car around and win back the love of my life," Troy says, sounding more sure of himself by the second. "Well... metaphorically speakin', Ben drove me here... speakin' of, I don't suppose you'd be willin' to drive me home? I'm done wallowin', I wanna get back home and make at least one of the two problems in my life right."

"Yeah," Sammy says, sounding a little defeated. He pushes himself up off the couch and glances over towards the closed bedroom door, not looking at Troy. He's not sure he can look at him now after all of that, after everything they talked about and everything he said having fallen on deaf ears. "Ben's fast asleep by now. I'll tell him you went home when I see him at the station tonight."

"I appreciate it," Troy says as he picks up all his things and folds Ben's blanket over the back of the couch. It doesn't take him long to get put together, since he hadn't so much as unclipped his utility belt since last night, and he and Sammy climb into his car together. 

The drive back to Troy's house is charged with two different energies. Troy looks to be a million miles away, probably daydreaming all the charming ways he's going to win his wife back, and Sammy is sitting across from him, stewing in a mix of guilt over feeling like he's sure his best friend would be happier if he just divorced his wife, and worse guilt over not being entirely sure about his motivations for thinking that. 

As they pull into the driveway in front of Troy's home, he pauses before getting out of Sammy's car, and gives his friend a soft little smile. "I never thanked you for comin' over to talk to me. You didn't gotta do that... you really helped me put some stuff into perspective. I'm gonna fix what's broken in my marriage if it's the last thing I do. You mean the world to me, man... thank you." 

He leans across the center console to embrace Sammy one-armed in a rare but deep display of affection that makes Sammy's throat close up.

"Yeah. Sure man." Sammy chokes out when Troy pulls away. "You mean the world to me too." 

He should drop it there. As Troy clambers out of the car he knows he shouldn't say anything else. Troy has clearly made up his mind about all of this, and his mind is set on Loretta. But Sammy's mind is still reeling from everything he's learned and his stomach is twisting with the knowledge that somehow this isn't right and before he can stop himself he blurts out, "Just make sure this is 100% what you want."

Troy sits back in his seat, his brow furrowing as he seems to think for a moment. Sammy watches his expression change several times, from fear to uncertainty to resignation and then finally to determination as he stands up out of the car. Gripping the edge of it, he bends down to look at Sammy with his brows set hard down over is eyes. 

"I ain't never been more sure of anything in my entire life," he says, his voice a hard edge of dead-set optimism. "I'm gonna make my marriage work, mark my words, in spite of your negative attitude. I'm gonna be the best husband in the world. Thanks again for drivin' me home." 

He closes the car door and walks back up to the house, and Sammy watches the swagger of his old limp with a tangled-up mess of feelings in his guts. He and Troy have never fought before, not like him and Ben have-- but he's pretty sure that right there was the closest Troy's ever come to being angry with him. 

"Way to go Shotgun," he groans. He takes a moment to feel sorry for himself, sitting there in Troy's drive way, his head on his steering wheel before he sighs, sits up, and heads back home. He's said his piece, done all he can, the rest is up to Troy now.

He'll have to apologize at some point for pushing him. But that can wait for another day.


	7. Chapter 7

It actually takes a week and a half before Sammy can drum up the courage to drive over to Troy’s house again. In that week and a half he does a lot of thinking. A lot of reflecting, laying in bed going over his and Troy’s conversation again and again. He knows he pushed too far, he should have called it quits while he was ahead when Troy hugged him and left well enough alone. But he’d had to push just that little bit more and because of that in almost two weeks he hadn’t heard a word from one of his best friends in the entire world.

Eventually he leaves that train of thought behind, there’s no use dwelling on it once he’s got his answer if he can’t make himself get up and do anything about it. After all, he might have pushed one too many times but he still doesn’t think he was in the wrong. And he isn’t quite ready to go apologize for speaking his mind just yet.

Instead he turns to the middle part of their conversation Troy’s confession. Not just of his cheating but how it had happened and with who. He had been so casual in his coming out, so open and honest with Sammy about it like he didn’t have a care in the world about people knowing. Or at least, about Sammy knowing. The more Sammy thinks about it, about how unreserved Troy had been in admitting his dalliance with another man, the more his respect for Troy grows, and with it a little envy at his courage. He wishes, more than anything, that he had the strength to be that open. 

It’s a week and a half into this train of thought that he decides maybe, just maybe, if Troy can do it, so can he. At least, he can tell Troy. Troy had been able to open up to him, to come out to him, he should be able to return to favor. To let him know he isn’t alone and Sammy, one of his co-best buds, is right there alongside him. So he gathers his resolve along with his keys and makes the drive out to Troy and Loretta’s house.

He's not sure exactly what he's going to say when he gets there. Hey buddy, remember how you admitted to me you're bisexual? I'm gay what's up! Admittedly, it's a work in progress. He figures he can iron out all the details once he's there. 

It's close to three when he's getting there, so he knows Troy will be home and Loretta should still be at work, the perfect time to talk to him. He parks his car and starts towards the front door of Troy's house, but before he's even halfway up the walk he hears something that makes his blood curdle in his veins. He hears shouting. 

He should turn around and walk away. He should get right back in his car and drive away. It isn't his place to pry, it's not his business to get involved. But the idea of Troy getting shouted at by his wife makes him see red, and keeps his feet carrying him forward towards that creaky old porch almost without his consent. It isn't until he's close enough to make out words that he realizes _Troy_ is the one shouting, not Loretta. He's never heard Troy raise his voice as long as he's known him-- it's chilling to hear.

"--and you thought that'd be okay?! God dang it Loretta, what made you think it'd be a good idea to go and do a thing like this! I TOLD you my feelings on the matter!" 

"YOU said you wanted to fix our marriage!" Loretta shouts right back. "YOU said you wanted to make things right! YOU said that, Troy!"

"Yeah, I said that! What I DIDN'T say was Hey Loretta I'd really like for you to go out and get yourself ARTIFICIALLY INSEMINATED behind my back!"

"And what was YOUR bright idea? Just be NICE again? You're ALWAYS nice, Troy! That doesn't mean anything coming from you! If a burgular broke into our HOUSE you'd be nice to him! I'm SICK to DEATH of you DRAGGING your feet and making excuses for why we aren't having kids!" 

"Me not makin' enough money isn't an excuse, Loretta! It's just a fact! I pulled double shifts for just a few weeks to pay for those bills and it damn near put me back in the hospital from exhaustion! I can't make enough money at that job to support a family, not--"

"Well since you got FIRED from that job maybe you can find one that ACTUALLY pays money instead of picking up some miserable low-rent MALLCOP position!" 

"I wasn't fired, dang it, I was _suspended_ and--"

"SUSPENDED! SUSPENDED! You hear that, god! He was SUSPENDED! You hear that neighbors?! HE WAS SUSPENDED! If I hear the word suspended come out of your mouth one more time, I swear to god--" 

"That ain't the point Loretta, and you know it. I'm makin' even less money now than I was before, there ain't no way we can afford to have a baby right now-- and you knew that! And you went and did it anyway!"

"Well, who's fault is that? Who's fault is it that you're making less money? Who's fault is it that I have to have a _baby_ to save this marriage from falling apart? Maybe if you actually have something to take a little fucking responsibility for, you won't go running off with someone else!" 

"Dang it, Loretta, I've had it 'bout to here with you accusin' me of being unfaithful! I ain't never been unfaithful to you a day in my life!"

"And now you never will, will you? This baby is going to keep you honest, Troy Kreighauser. It'll keep your eyes and hands where they belong, instead of looking at other women and feeling up other men!" 

"I was EIGHTEEN!" 

"Like that matters!"

Sammy shouldn't be hearing this. He shouldn't be here for this and he knows it. This doesn't concern him and if Troy or Loretta knew he was here right now... Troy would never be able to look him in the eye again. But he can't seem to move. It's like his feet have grown roots right down through the floor of the porch, holding him fast to the spot and he can't take a single step one way or the other. He's stuck in a trance just listening to their back and forth, desperate to jump in and defend Troy despite knowing how much he would hate him for it.

He continues to stand there in stunned silence, letting their words sink in and soon that old anger starts to bubble up. How could Loretta? How could she go behind Troy's back like this and then go ahead and accuse him of being untrustworthy? The very idea has Sammy's blood boiling with rage. She has no idea how good she's got it, what luck she has to have landed a man like Troy Krieghauser and she's tearing into him like he's nothing. Listening to her berate him for being kind like it's a sin makes him want to reach through the door, grab her, and shake her into pieces. 

"So you're telling me you want me to get an abortion, is that it? You KNOW how long I've wanted to have kids, Troy! You married me KNOWING that I wanted to have kids! You said you wanted to have kids WITH me!" 

"I said it and I meant it, Loretta, but I'm only 25 and I just ain't makin' enough money. If you'd just--"

"If I'd just WHAT, Troy! If I waited? How long do you expect me to wait for you to decide to be ready! You might be 25, but I'm not! How many of my prime baby-having years do you want me to WASTE waiting for you!"

Troy goes silent, because he doesn't seem to have an answer to that, and Loretta just lets out a scream of anger, followed by the sound of something breaking. 

"I've HAD IT with you, Troy! I'm leaving now and I'll be back in a couple days, and I expect you to take a really hard fucking look at our marriage and what's important to you, because if I come back here and you're still dragging your ass I'm leaving you for _good_." 

It happens so fast that Sammy doesn't have time to shake himself out of his daze before the front door opens and he finds himself face to face with a teary-faced, furious Loretta. She pauses for long enough for her face to go through several stages of shock and shame before she settles on rage. 

"OF COURSE you're here! Why wouldn't YOU be here! Eavesdrop on my life and steal my husband! Get FUCKED, Sammy Stevens!" she shouts, and pushes him hard enough in the chest that he nearly topples backwards off the stairs. On her way to the car she shrieks, "Troy your BOYFRIEND'S HERE!"

Sammy's heart is pounding hard in his chest, and there's blood rushing in his ears as old panic starts to well up inside him. That same old panic that tells him to run, hide, make sure no one knows, no one sees, that they can't know him like this. But he manages, just barely, to rein it in and turn wide, wild fearful eyes to the door to see Troy standing there watching Loretta go. 

"Troy I- I wasn't- shit, man," He gasps, looking between him and Loretta as she gets to her car and drives away so fast her tires screech on the pavement. "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop. Really. I came here to-" he cuts himself off, remembering what he had come here to do and his throat closes up around the words. There's no way he can do that now. He can't come out to Troy now, not here and like this. Not after all of that. "I just wanted to apologize for pushing you last week. Fuck, buddy, I'm sorry."

Troy didn't look judgemental at seeing Sammy there before he started talking, and he doesn't look it now. He just sighs, his shoulders sagging. "I'm real sorry you had to hear me raise my voice like that... not many things get me riled, but god almighty, this latest stunt Loretta's pulled... I just don't know how to be alright with it."

There's a moment of awkward silence with Troy standing inside in the space between the kitchen and living room and Sammy standing on the porch with the door open between them, before Troy clears his throat. 

"Uh, you can come in or go, it's your call, but either way I'd appreciate it if you'd close the door before all the heat gets out."

He turns away to let Sammy make up his mind without pressure, and picks up the broom off its handle on the side of the fridge so he can start sweeping up the glass from a picture frame Loretta had thrown at him. At a glance, it looks like a wedding photo.

"I can't just leave you like this Troy." Sammy says, following him inside and closing the door. "You know that. Talk to me man, are you okay? That was intense. I've never heard you like that. I've never heard _her_ like that and I've heard her get pretty pissed off before. Did she really go out and get- you know? Seriously?"

"She did. She showed me the pregnancy tests and everything," Troy says, jerking his head towards the pile of positives on the kitchen table. "Went and did it ten times just to be sure, even after gettin' it confirmed at the doctor's. If you ask me I think she just got a special li'l thrill from watchin' the tests turn positive every time. I guess she was just hopin' that I'd be excited." 

Bending down to sweep the glass up into the dustpan, Troy finds himself unable to stand back up once he's down there, the strength clear leaving his body all at once. He gives a weak, miserable little sob just as Sammy sets the glassless picture frame back on the side table next to the couch. He couldn't help but note that Troy is beaming from ear to ear in that photo, while Loretta looks more smug than anything. 

"I dunno what I'm gonna do," Troy wheezes out, pushing his glasses up into his hair so he can sob right into his hands. "I ain't ready for this, I don't know what to do."

Sammy is still a little twitchy after Loretta’s boyfriend comment, but he can’t just sit there and leave Troy crying like this. Hesitantly he reaches out and wraps an arm around the younger man’s shoulders, pulling him in against his side so he can tug him up to his feet, and easing him down onto the couch to sit together while he cries.

“Hey man, it’s okay talk to me,” He says gently, still holding Troy against him. “We can figure this out, I promise.”

"I just don't know what I'm gonna do," Troy repeats, babbling senselessly as he leans shamelessly into Sammy's side for comfort. "I ain't never raised my voice like that at Loretta before, I feel like the worst person alive. And she's threatenin' to _­leave_ me? Oh lord, I can feel my heart rippin' clean in two."

“I’m sorry Troy. But if I can say so, I think you were justified in getting angry. From what I heard it sounds like she went behind your back in a really big way,” Sammy reassures him. “She broke your trust and dragged you into this against your will. You have every right to be pissed as hell over it.”

"I don't know what to do," Troy repeats again, hanging his head back in his hands. "We've talked kids before, more than once-- WAY more than once. I told her I wanna be a dad somethin' awful and it's true, I ain't never lied to that woman, not once. I guess I just... underestimated how serious she was gettin' about it. I'm not makin' enough money to be a daddy, Sammy-- not a good one, anyhow. I'd either have to live with my family' bein' destitute just so I could hang around 'em as often as possible, or I'd have to work myself to the bone to provide in exchange for bein' present. I don't wanna be an absent daddy like my own, I can't be that, Sammy-- I can't, I just can't. I'd rather not be a daddy at all than a bad one."

Sammy sighs and gives Troy a little squeeze to try to comfort him. “That’s- that’s a really tough spot to be in Troy. I can see where you’re coming from, there’s no easy solution and Loretta had no right to go ahead and make that decision for you behind your back like that. And to use the baby as a bargaining chip, to threaten you into staying with her, that’s just low.” He says with a shake of his head. “God it’s all just such a mess.”

"That's what I don't understand-- I never even told her I wanted to leave! I said just the opposite, I came home that day you drove me and we had a long talk about how I wanted to be a better husband and fix our marriage-- so I don't even understand where she got this harebrained idea from that _she_ had to do something drastic to save us! I just don't get it!" Troy says, launching up off the couch now that his strength has returned in the form of angry confusion.

“Maybe that was enough? Hearing that you thought it was broken enough to need fixing?” Sammy suggests. He stays seated on the couch and just watches Troy begin to pace, not wanting to crowd him. “Even still it’s pretty low of her to accuse you of cheating when she’s the one who went out and got inseminated with another man’s spent right? That’s practically cheating.”

"She didn't," Troy sighs, and sits down heavily on the couch again, all the fight once more leaving him. "That night I came home and we had that talk... she seemed so... enthusiastic. We, uh... were intimate, that night. I used a condom, like I always do, but I guess she went into the trash after I was asleep and stole it. Took it with her to the clinic, and had them use it to put a bun in her oven."

Sammy raises an eyebrow. That doesn't seem scientifically sound as far as he knows, but he's no scientist or doctor so he can't very well speak up and refute it. It'll just end up being him word against Loretta's and he's seen whose side Troy is more likely to take in these sort of matters.

"It sounds to me like you don't have a lot of options Troy. You either raise the kid with no money, raise the kid working all the time or... don't have a kid." Sammy says finally. "I know that really sucks but there doesn't seem to be another way around this."

"It ain't fair. It just ain't fair. Why'd she have to go and do this? I just ain't ready to be a daddy. Mine was just... he was real bad, Sammy. Real bad. Mean streak the size of the rockies and a short fuse to boot. If my mama hadn't been so tough I think he'd'a put the hurt on all of us as often as he pleased. I've poured just about every drop of energy my soul's got into makin' sure I don't wind up a thing like him, from the way I carry myself to the choices I make when speakin', but god almighty if the idea of bein' even a fraction of the daddy he was-- it shakes me to my core, Sammy."

“You won’t be.” Sammy assures him, sounding as sure of that as he has ever been of anything in his life. “Troy, you might have to work more than you’d like and be away from home more than you’d want but you would _never_ be that. You don’t have a mean bone in your body and you would never, ever, lay a hand on Loretta or your child like that. If that’s what’s scaring you I don’t think you need to be worried. And if you need help with money, for a little while until you get back on your feet, you know I’m always more than happy to help you out.”

"God almighty, Sammy, I can't let you do that. You've done enough for the folks in this town, you've _given_ more than enough. I already got your love and support, that's all a fella needs. I'll... figure out the money situation on my own, I guess."

He sighs, hanging his head in his hands again. "It ain't like Loretta is paid in crumbs, but if we're gonna have a baby... god help me, Sammy. Am I bad for feelin' like I don't wanna have one? Not right now. Not like this."

Sammy shakes his head. “No. No Troy you’re not bad for not wanting this. Loretta basically said she’s having this baby to try to tie you down. That’s not the right reason to have a kid. That’s not how you should be starting your family.”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry man. I’m really sorry. I wish there was more I could do to make this easier for you. This just isn’t right.”

Troy is silent for a really long time, staring out into space and just relishing in Sammy's presence at his side. He blinks slowly, tiredly, lost in his thoughts for several long minutes before he finally speaks up again, his voice slow and deliberate and exhausted and sad. 

"I'm afraid of this bein' it, Sammy. But I just plain don't know how to recover from this. If she'd just talked to me first... if she'd asked me to consider havin' a baby in a real way so we could come together on somethin' mutual-like... but she didn't. She snuck and hid like a... like a gotdamn polecat. And then she has the idea to turn around on me and say she'll leave me if I don't take responsibility-- like she wasn't the one to do it."

The anger is starting to come out now, but in typical Troy fashion, his anger is a low simmer. He doesn't shout, doesn't throw things or cuss, he just looks down at his hands, balled into fists. 

Sammy sits with him and nods, unsure what he should do. He’s never been faced with Troy’s anger before and isn’t sure if it’s best to try to defuse the situation or let it run it’s course so he can finally get it out of his system. For now he opts to take the second option and wait and see.

“What she did was wrong man, there’s no arguing that. She’s gone behind your back and taken away a decision that should have been both of yours.”

The anger leaves him as quickly as it arrived, replaced all at once by a chilling, crushing sadness, and he turns teary eyes towards Sammy. "God, is this it? That's it then, ain't it? I can't... I can't be a daddy to that baby. And her not havin' the baby ain't an option. That means the only thing left is for us to just... go our separate ways, ain't it? Lord have mercy, that hurts my heart somethin' awful."

That sad look in Troy’s eyes makes Sammy’s chest ache and he knows there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make that look go away and to make his friend happy again. Without any obvious solutions he reaches out and pulls Troy into a tight hug, hoping that will convey some of what he’s trying to get across and will help a little.

“I’m really, really sorry Troy. So fucking sorry it’s come to this. Maybe don’t make any rash decisions now, yeah? Sleep on it and if it all looks the same tomorrow morning then...well. Fuck man I don’t know but I’ll be here for you no matter what.”

Troy melts into Sammy's embrace and wraps his own arms around the older man as tight as they'll go, squeezing him around the ribs and grabbing onto the back of his shirt. He grinds his face into Sammy's shoulder and fights his weak little sobs for a few moments until he regains his composure. 

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I'll do that. I... gotta lot to think about. And I think I oughtta be alone to think about it. If I need an ear to jaw on, I'll ring you up. I appreciate you comin' by, like always. I dunno what I woulda done with myself if you hadn't been at the door when you were."

“Glad I could help.” Sammy says. He finds himself a little reluctant to let go of Troy. It’s silly, he knows that, and with one last squeeze he makes himself pull away. “I’m just a phone call away if you need me. As always Troy. Take care of yourself alright?”

"Will do, good buddy," Troy gives his shoulder a squeeze at the door, and doesn't close it until Sammy is halfway to his car. He's got a lot of thinking to do before Loretta comes home, and a lot of hard decisions to make when she does. He just hopes to the almighty god that he'll make the right ones. 


	8. Chapter 8

"Dude, you've been checking your phone obsessively all night, are you okay?" Ben mutters when he catches Sammy once more turning his phone on during a commercial break, for the third time tonight. "Did something happen that I should know about?"

“What?” Sammy asks, his head snapping up to look at Ben.

He’s been a little out of it all night. Distracted. It’s unlike him, he’s usual more professional than this, can usually keep it together and can keep his focus on air and keep talking even when his mind is somewhere else but tonight he’s just all over the place. “Sorry, sorry. Just. Waiting I guess. I don’t even know what for.” He admits with a sigh.

"Waiting?" Ben repeats, his nose wrinkling. "Waiting for--" he'd already said he didn't know what. Ben just shakes his head. "Did something happen, man? Are you good?"

“ _I’m_ fine.” Sammy grumbles, checking his phone one more time. “Look Ben I’m sorry it’s not really for me to talk about, I shouldn’t even know about it I was just in the wrong place at the right time as usual.”

"Something did happen? And _I'm_ out of the loop?" Ben says, starting to vibrate just a little bit. 

"Look-- it's just not my place to--" Sammy starts, but the commercial winds down to a close and they have no choice but to go back on air. "Welcome back, folks, to-"

"To the My Best Friend Is Keeping Secrets show," Ben cuts in. "Starring Ben Arnold and Secretive Sammy."

“Isn’t it fun how many s words we can use to modify my name? Suplex Sammy, Shotgun Sammy, I think I heard Sassy Sammy once.” Sammy laughs, leaning forward on the desk to speak into his microphone. “Lot harder to do with Ben, there’s no synonym for hypocrite I can come up with that starts with a B but you really can’t talk Mr. Super Secret notebook. I’m entitled to a few secrets of my own.”

"Oh, you wanna go there?" Ben is clearly riled up, but Sammy can easily see by looking at him that he doesn't seem angry, just exciteable as always. "Cause you know that notebook was worth it! Some... things inside notwithstanding." 

"Oh you mean like _Who Is--_ "

"Okay! Yes! My biggest regret, I'll think about that on my deathbed, is that what you wanna hear?" Ben laugh-shouts. 

The hotline rings, and the mood instantly shifts to something more serious. The hotline rarely, if ever, brings good news. Ben jerks his head towards Sammy, indicating for him to patch in the phone on the desk. 

"Good evening, you're live on--" he starts, but is immediately cut off by an angry voice. 

"Save it, Stevens."

Ben's brow wrinkles and he blurts, "Loretta?"

Sammy’s blood runs cold and across the desk Ben can see him visibly go pale. He looks shaken, a little nervous, his hands clenching in the desk top like he’s preparing for a fight. There’s a second of dead air while Sammy collects himself, regaining his composure and sitting up a little straighter, setting his jaw, the look is his eyes going steely and hard like it only does when he’s preparing for a show down with one of their least favorite callers.

“Loretta,” Sammy repeats, no question in his voice. “Welcome to the show, I think this is a first isn’t it?”

"Stow the pleasantries, Shotgun. I'm not here to chat," Loretta says, her voice hard and mean in a way that makes Ben want to shrivel up. He can already tell by the look on Sammy's face that this is what he'd been 'waiting' for. "I'm here to keep you two from talking about whatever you were about to talk about. I know you've been all up in our business, _Sam_."

“It’s Sammy,” he corrects, his voice colder than ice. If looks could kill the glare he’s giving the sound board would probably cause it to explode right about now. “And I wasn’t going to say anything. I have no intention of spreading other peoples personal business or histories across the airwaves. Unlike some people. Good work on the shotgun tape by the way. Must have taken a while to dig up those old clips.”

"Not nearly as long as you think," Loretta replies coldly. 

"Wait-- wait wait wait, _Loretta_ made the tape?" Ben's voice goes up half an octave as the fear in his body is replaced with rage. 

"Don't flatter yourselves. I'm not over here with my life being _consumed_ by Shotgun Sammy. I was part of a _team_ who worked on the tape. It was far from a passion project," Loretta says. "All you do is broadcast everybody's shit all over town, so for once I'd appreciate it if you'd shut your mouth and let me say what I'm going to say, and then we never have to talk again."

“We provide a platform for people to share news. People call in and talk, what they share is their own business.” Sammy argues. “But by all means, whatever gets you off my air, the faster the better. Go ahead.”

"Much appreciated," Loretta snaps back. "I'm here to inform you that your friendship with my husband is over. In his own words, he doesn't want to talk to either of you ever again." 

Ben feels a shard of ice hit him in the chest, and he blurts, "Bull ** _shit_** he said that." 

"You think I'm joking? He changed his number today and everything. Just try calling him up," Loretta sounds unbelievably smug as she says it. "You _lost_ , boys. You thought you could fuck with my marriage, and you lost. He chose _me_."

Sammy is practically shaking in his chair he’s so angry. Every muscle in his body seems to be clenched tight as if prepared to spring into action at the slightest provocation. His hands, already fists, are now clenched so tight his knuckles are pure white and his nails are close to drawing blood from his palms. There’s a ringing in his ears and he’s sure he couldn’t have heard her right, there’s no way this is happening. He had just talked to Troy and he knows what he had said. He was going to leave her, he was done with her bullshit. This couldn’t be right.

“Fuck off Loretta.” He grinds out from between clenched teeth. “That’s bullshit. That’s complete bullshit! I talked to Troy, I know what’s going on with you two and I know that’s bullshit!”

"You think you know everything, don't you? You think you know all about how a marriage works? Have you ever been married, Shotgun?" the silence that follows is palpable. "I didn't think so. Nobody could tolerate you long enough to marry you. I on the other hand, have been married _twice_. The first time to a man who left me for a seventeen year old, and the second time to YOUR ex-best friend, who is now making the smart choice, the right choice to sideline the two men trying to convince him to leave his wife!" 

"We're not trying to convince him to do anything!" Ben protests, his heart pounding in his throat. Then he catches the look on Sammy's face and says softer, "Sammy? Were-- she's wrong, isn't she?"

Loretta doesn’t know it, neither does Ben, but she found just the right angle to take all the fight out of Sammy. He sags in his chair like the wind has gone out of his sails, suddenly feeling old and weak and so very, very alone. He wishes he could argue with her, could tell her that she’s wrong and that he was going to be married except that little voice of doubt that lives in the back of his mind, whispering to him that it’s his fault that Jack is gone is suddenly so much louder and he can’t find the strength to even continue this argument anymore. 

“All I ever tried to convince Troy to do was take care of himself,” Sammy says, softer and more weary than he had been a few moments before. “Which is more than I think you can say. I don’t believe you. I _won’t_ believe you until I hear it from Troy himself. And if that’s all you have to say Loretta I think we’re done here.”

"Well, seeing as you _won't_ be hearing it from him, since he doesn't want to talk to you, I thought I'd offer you the courtesy of letting you know from someone with firsthand knowledge. Ciao shotgun. Benny." 

The phone cuts to silence, then, and the boys are left there sitting in shock for a few seconds. Ben snaps out of it first, shaking his head like he's trying to physically shake water out of his hair. "Uh- shit, dead air. Uhh-- commercial, fuck-- no, no okay we just did a commercial, uhh-- okay-- fuck. Shit. Sammy-- hey, let's just call him, alright? Prove her wrong live on the air."

“Yeah. Yeah alright,” Sammy says weakly, leaning back in his chair. He doesn’t make a move towards the phone, leaves that to Ben, unsure if he can handle the disappointment of the line not going through if he’s doing it himself.

With a few taps of the buttons, Ben dials the familiar number of Troy's cell phone. A second later, the shrill set of triple-beeps hits their ears, along with the automated voice apologizing for the number being out of service, suggesting for them to hang up and try again, or contact their service provider. Ben's heart is in his mouth as he silently cuts the line and then dials it again-- only to recieve the same message. 

"Okay," Ben says, keeping his voice calm even though there's a slight tremor in it. He feels sick thinking about how smug Loretta must be right now. "She's taken his phone before, right? He's probably at work at this hour." 

He dials the number for mall security, holding his breath as it rings a couple times, and then the sound of a woman's voice comes through the other end. 

"King Malls security, this is Brianna speaking, how can I--"

"Brianna," Ben cuts her off. "Hi, it's Ben Arnold, King Falls AM? Uh- you're live. Is Troy in tonight? Troy Krieghauser? He's a friend of mine."

"Sure is, he's just about to head out on his rounds," she answers. "Do you need him?" 

"Yes, god, thank you," Ben lets out a sigh of relief as she puts them on a brief hold, and he reaches out across the table to grip Sammy's hand, and he murmurs, "See, buddy? Everything's okay."

Sammy squeezes his hand back, not trusting his words for once. He mentally curses Loretta in every way he can for doing this to them. Haven't they been through enough? Lost enough? Ben has had to go through losing Emily twice, had to fight tooth and nail to keep what little of her he has. Sammy has lost- well no one knows what he's lost but it should be clear to see that he doesn't have much left to lose. He and Ben only have each other, Troy, and this stupid radio show keeping them going. How dare Loretta try to take a piece of that away from them?

He holds his breath while they wait for the line to click through, wait for that familiar voice to come on and tell them its all a big misunderstanding. But deep down, deep in that ugly dark pit of pessimism that makes up most of Sammy's worldview he knows that isn't going to happen. 

A few moments pass and then the line picks up and the voice is familiar but its not the one they want. "Sorry sir," Brianna says. "Troy's already headed out. I just missed him. I'll let him know you called."

"Thank you, ma'am," Ben says, his voice a little tight. "We appreciate it." 

"Have a good night," she says, and Ben closes the line. 

Running his hands through his hair, he blows out a long breath. "Okay-- fuck it. Commercial. I'll take the hit," he mutters, and puts on the longest commercial he can find in order to pull off his headset and turn to Sammy, reaching over to take his headset off too when his co-host doesn't make a move to even lift his hands. 

"Buddy, hey," he says, grabbing Sammy's chair by the arm rests and physically swiveling him to face him. "It's gonna be okay, alright? we'll figure this out."

"I need air," is all Sammy can say before hurling himself out of his chair, almost bodily knocking Ben out of the way to make a beeline for the door. 

He gets outside, the cold night air shocking him enough to start feeling like a person a little bit again. It's all just too much right now, everything that's happening is too much. First Lily in town, now this. Sammy shakes his head, trying to clear it, trying to find some sense in the chaos that his life in King Falls seems to be slowly spiraling into. 

"Fuck!" He shouts as loudly as he can, the curse echoing down the mountain.

Ben finds him a moment later, bringing Sammy's coat with him, and he throws it around his shoulders as soon as he gets up to his friend. "Buddy, hey, come on," he says, trying to hold his own shit together despite also dying on the inside like Sammy is on the outside. Maybe it hit Sammy a little worse-- he's not sure why, but one of them has to keep from completely falling apart or they'll both be useless. 

Reaching up, he grabs Sammy's face in both hands. "Look it me man, come on. It's okay, we're okay. Troy's okay, everything's gonna be okay, we'll work it out."

"The show--" Sammy mumbles. 

"Hey, hey. It's okay, I got Chet to babysit the air for a few minutes," Ben says, linking his hands together at the back of Sammy's head. "Just breathe for a minute, it's okay. Come here," he arches up onto his tiptoes and tugs Sammy into a hug, throwing his arms around his neck. "She's lying, or she's delusional, it doesn't matter. We'll figure this out."

Sammy leans down, wrapping his arms around Ben and letting himself be soothed by the smaller man. He buries his face in Ben's shoulder and sighs, letting the anger and hurt and confusion ebb away back to its normal baseline of pain at least for now.

"We can't lose anyone else Ben," He says quietly. "I'm just so tired."

"We're not gonna lose him. He's our brother," Ben says, scratching his nails across the back of Sammy's neck to try and soothe him. "Loretta doesn't know what she's talking about, okay? I mean just think about it-- she called us on the hotline. Even if she somehow coerced him into never talking to us again, do you really think he would just give her the hotline number to come rub it in our faces? No way in hell, she stole it from him or something. Probably looked through his phone to find it when she took it from him to change his number."

"Yeah," Sammy sighs. Ben is making sense and it's helping, definitely helping him feel better. "Yeah you're probably right. I'm sure we'll hear from him after his shift or tomorrow and he'll explain everything. She's just being a bitch because he's angry at her and taking it out on us. Fuck her."

" _Fuck_ her, man," Ben repeats, dropping back down onto his flat feet so he can grab Sammy by the face again in both hands. "She's a jealous, sad woman and we can't give her the satisfaction of thinking we fell apart because she tried to drop this fake-ass bombshell on us. Let's go back in there and put as much enthusiasm as we can into the rest of the show until she fucking rage-quits it hunched over her radio at home."

"Yeah. Yeah okay. I might go a little Shotgun on you but I'll try to keep it under control," Sammy warns, giving Ben a shaky smile. Sometimes he wonders if Ben might be a little bit magic, because there's no other way anyone like him could exist and could hold Sammy together like he does. 

He pulls his face out of his friend's grasp and ruffles his hair before taking a few steps back towards the station. "Hey Ben? Love you man."

"Love you too," Ben echoes without hesitation. 

It's not the _best_ show they've ever put on, but barring that little wrinkle in the middle, it's up there in the top 20 at least. Ron calls in to offer his support in insisting that there's no way Troy would just up and abandon them for a "hateful woman" like Loretta, and Archie calls in to share gossip that he heard from someone else who heard from someone else who saw Loretta going into a planned parenthood clinic-- news which shocks Ben, but Sammy promises to fill him in later. At this point, he deserves to know. 

Troy doesn't call in for the rest of the night, but it's not the end of the world. They've gone nights without hearing from him before. They finish strong and hand over the station to the next show, and as Ben shrugs his coat on, a thought strikes him. 

"We could go to his house," he suggests. "Grab some breakfast for him from Rose's and just show up at his place. What's Loretta gonna do, lock him in the basement?"

"You don't think that'll seem like an ambush?" Sammy asks, raising an eyebrow. "I don't want to seem like we're attacking the guy because we didn't get a call for one night. We don't want to look too desperate right? I mean we are but we don't want to give ourselves away." He tries to joke as he pulls on his coat as well.

"Who fucking cares what she thinks? Let her think it's an ambush. She thinks she can get away with just calling us on the air to shit on us? Thinks she can just convince us that Troy's cutting us off? He probably doesn't even know what she did-- how could he? If he knew she tried this, he would have said something to us," Ben says, zipping his sweater up.

That unpleasant wriggling old sense of pessimism starts to flair up again, telling Sammy that this is probably a bad idea. That every other time he's gone to Troy's house or gone anywhere near Troy and Loretta uninvited it's ended badly but Ben is making a lot of sense and he desperately wants him to be right. So he pushes his worries aside and nods. "Yeah alright, we'll grab some pancake puppies and head over there."

Ben is a lot more energetic and optimistic as they park in the driveway behind Troy's car-- a promising sign so far-- and Ben has to physically restrain himself to keep from running up the walkway like an overexcited child. He's so absolutely sure that they're going to blow Loretta's stupid plan wide open that he has to make an active effort not to bounce in place as he knocks on the door. 

Unsurprisingly, it's Loretta who opens it, and she doesn't even look surprised to see them. "Why am I not shocked that you're here?" she says flatly, one hand on the hip and one on the door, ready to slam it in their faces.

"Turns out we're stubborn." Sammy says with overblown fake pleasantness and a smile to match. "We brought breakfast. Enough for you too, if you want some. But right now we'd really like to talk to Troy if you don't mind."

"It's not really up to _me_ , is it?" Loretta smirks. Ben wants to smack the smug look right off her face. 

Just then the back door opens and a moment later Troy appears in the hallway beyond the kitchen leading towards the stairs. He looks up at the sight of what's going on at the door, and Ben immediately breaks into a grin. "Hey buddy!" he calls, standing up on his tippy toes to see better over Loretta's arm still holding the door. 

Troy kicks off his boots and heads up the stairs without a word. Ben drops back down to his feet as a pit starts to grow in his stomach, and Loretta's smug expression grows even moreso. 

"Troy!" Sammy shouts around Loretta, loud and angry enough to be heard up the stairs. "For fucks sake man at least have the decency to look at us." 

He almost loses hope, but looking down to see the expression on Ben's face, like he's witnessing his entire world fall apart, ignites the fight right back in his blood. 

His grip on the carry out container in his hand is a little too tight, starting to crush it just a little. "What the hell Krieghauser? Since when do you run away with your tail between your legs?"

The sound of a door closing upstairs can be heard, followed by soft, smug laughter from Loretta. "I suggest the two of you get off my fucking property. If you come around here again, I'll file a restraining order against you both. And don't think I couldn't get it, it would be Mayor Grisham's _pleasure_ to sign off on it personally. That way if you come back here, you'll get to hear from my husband-- when he reads you your rights."

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" Sammy says to her. "This isn't over. Not by a fucking long shot. Just you wait and see Loretta." 

He doesn't give her the satisfaction of a reply, just turns on his heel and leaves, hoping Ben is right behind him. But Ben is rooted to the spot, tears building up in his eyes unbidden. The sight of it makes Loretta's lip curl. 

"What, are you gonna _cry?"_ she asks cruelly.

"Yeah, I'm gonna cry," Ben says, his breath hitching, anger and grief and pain all colliding in a horrible ache in his chest. "Troy's like my best friend, of course losing him is gonna make me cry!"

"Ben, come on, she's not worth it," Sammy says, charging back up the walk to grab Ben by the arm and tug him down off the porch. There's a fire in Sammy now, the kind he usually reserves for fight with only a select few people. 

There's no way he's letting Troy go that easy.


	9. Chapter 9

The next couple of weeks are hell. Sammy and Ben try again and again to reach out to Troy. They call the mall regularly, trying to get through to the security dispatch. And every time it’s the same story. Krieghauser isn’t available. He isn’t in today. He’s patrolling. Their calls start to fade off, becoming less regularly as they start losing hope. The fight doesn’t go out of Sammy though, especially as he sees the sadness bearing down on Ben like a weight growing heavier and heavier with every rejection. The sadness in his best friend’s eyes strengthens his resolve more and more every day.

It’s a little before Christmas when he finally decides to make his move. He calls in to the station, tells Ben he won’t be in that night because he’s sick. He’s earned it he thinks, he never uses his sick days, and he makes a decent show of coughing into the phone. Enough so that Ben offers to bring him to soup after the show is over which he graciously refuses. 

By now he has a good idea of when Troy’s work schedule is thanks to their frequent call ins to the mall and he heads over that way around 3 am, parking his car a little ways away so it won’t be spotted and walking the rest of the way. He isn’t looking to cause any actual properly damage so rather than smash a window to get inside he finds a propped open fire exit, there’s always one employees use to sneak smoke breaks, and slips inside. Tripping an alarm inside is easy enough, it’s just a matter of opening a door that shouldn’t be opened and start grabbing things off shelves.

When he's satisfied he's completely loaded down with very obviously stolen items, with a scarf around his neck, sunglasses on his face (as well as some on top of his head) and several random items sticking out of his pocket, he waits for the sound of foot steps and just sits down on a chair, taking off his shoes to dramatically try on a pair of brand new loafers. 

A flashlight shines in his face and he hears Troy's voice a second later cry out, "What in the name of god's green earth? Sammy? Just what in the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Stealing," Sammy says casually. He looks down at the shoes and then back at Troy. "What do you think? Not really my normal style but I think I can pull them off. I mean I work in radio, no one is going to see my feet anyway."

"You are not _stealing_ ," Troy snaps, sounding irritated and exhausted. "Get your feet outta those shoes right this second."

"Don't think I will." Sammy replies, standing up, still in the shoes and starting to walk away. "I might have once, when I still had some respect for you but turns out your a sad little coward who can't even tell his friends to their faces that he's done with them so. Nah."

"Sammy Stevens you empty your pockets right now, or I'm fit to lose it," Troy says, sounding angrier than Sammy's ever heard him before. It might have been chilling, if he didn't know what a tender soul Troy is most of the time. He sounds wrung out and tired, and close to a breaking point-- and Sammy thinks that just maybe he needs to break a little bit.

"Why don't you come over here and fucking make me Krieghauser?" He taunts, grabbing a watch off a nearby display. "Come on. Or are you too scared to get that close to me? Would that be breaking the rules? Will you be in trouble? Man up Troy, do your job and try to stop me."

Part of him kind of wanted Troy to, but a larger part of him didn't actually _expect_ Troy to. Truthfully he'd been anticipating Troy's resolve flagging and the two of them having a heart to hear in the dark, but instead he gets the wind knocked out of him when Troy collides into him from behind and slams him down over a jewelry display, almost hard enough to crack the glass. His arm is wrenched behind him and he's handcuffed in just about the shortest amount of time he thinks anyone has ever been handcuffed before, and with a yank to the collar of his shirt and a hand at the small of his back, he shoved back up to his feet. 

"I ain't playin' with you, Stevens," he says, shoving him forward, scruffing him like a kitten. "This ain't cute, and you just about severed my last nerve."

"Good!" Sammy snarls, planting his feet to make this a little more difficult for Troy. "Because you know what? You severed the last of mine too! You've pissed me off Troy. You broke Ben's heart and I can't let that stand. If that means I have to piss you off and let you take a couple swings at me to get you to finally actually _talk_ to me and tell me why, fine. I can take it. But I'm not letting this drop until we get this fixed. You can call Deputy Lynch and have her book me, I'll make bail and be right back here tomorrow night. And the night after that and after that until we talk this out man." 

He turns his head to look at Troy as best he can over his shoulder. "You and Ben are all I've got, so I've got nothing to lose by coming back."

Though he fights it all the way, he's thrown inside a holding area, a temporary little cell with only a bench inside it. "You can bet your ass I'll be callin' this in. I already lost one law enforcement job on account of me bein' too soft on a perp, and I ain't about to repeat my mistakes," Troy says, turning away from the cell towards the desk in the center of the office space. "You can either keep all your goods on you until Deputy Lynch gets here, or you can throw 'em through the bars, your call." 

Sammy rolls his eyes and starts emptying his pockets, tossing things through the bars, aiming them at Troy as best he can. It's a little childish but right now, he doesn't care. "You know Troy? I thought I had you figured out. I thought you were the real deal, an actual good, loyal, upstanding guy. Someone who cared about people. About his friends. Who gave a shit about people. Guess I was wrong huh? God. Should have known. Should have known better than to think someone that good could actually exist. Serves me fucking right. And here I thought I couldn't be any more disappointed by people than I already was but you? You really take the cake."

Troy sighs, his shoulders sagging as he leans on the desk on his hands. He reaches up to rub his hand across his face and then stoops down to start picking things up off the ground as Sammy tosses them through the bars, piling everything on the desk. 

"Shoes," he says flatly, pointing at Sammy's feet without addressing anything else he's said.

Sammy takes off the shoes and tosses them out too, more half hearted. He sits down on the ground with a sigh and keeps talking because that's just who he is, it's what he does. He talks. 

"You really hurt me you know that?" He says, pulling his knees up to his chest. "I can think of maybe four other people in my life who have ever hurt me as much as you have in these past few weeks Troy. And honestly? I don't even care. I probably deserve it. Hell, I know I do. But Ben doesn't. And you hurt him. You hurt him really bad. And he's hurt enough, don't you think? Jack in the box Jesus, he's lost too much he can't lose you too. Even if you never speak to me again you have to talk to him. Please."

Troy sighs heavily again, and puts the shoes on the desk. "I can't do that," he says, and picks up the phone on the desk. "Now hush up, I gotta make a call." After a pause with the phone dialed he says, "Deputy Lynch? Yeah-- hey. I got someone here for you to pick up. Uh huh... yeah. It's uh... Stevens." the sound of her repeating the name is so loud Sammy can hear it from his cell. "I know, yeah. Actin' a damn fool. Alright. See you in a few." 

Hanging up the phone, he sits down at the desk and proceeds to keep ignoring Sammy.

"He's going to need you," Sammy keeps going. "Now more than ever. I know I fucked this up for us. I know you hate me and I can't fix that. For what it's worth I am sorry. I wish I could. I wish I could fix a lot of things." He gives a dry, sad little chuckle. "Wishing doesn't really make much difference though. Neither does breaking and entering I guess. But I had to try. Had to give it one last go."

Troy can't keep silent in the face of all this. He really gave it his best try. He would leave the office if that wasn't completely against protocol, but he has no choice but to stay here and listen to this. He supposes it's poetic justice. 

"You didn't mess anything up, and I don't hate you," he says, standing up from the desk to plant himself in front of Sammy's cell, folding his arms across his chest. "I just... had a long talk with Loretta when she came home that day, and I had no choice but to make some... real hard decisions. Excruciating decisions. Maybe I am a coward for just... cuttin' ya'll off so sudden. But I guess I figured a coward's better than an executioner."

Sammy looks up at him and quietly raises an eyebrow, encouraging him to go on. He doesn't say a word for once, like he's almost afraid if he starts talking again he'll scare Troy away.

Sighing, Troy reaches up and runs a hand through his hair. "I mean, what was I supposed to do? Tell her to get an _abortion?_ She's carryin' my child, whether I like it or not, and I guess I figure... folks have babies on accident all the time. Condom breaks, birth control fails, or they're just stupid and reckless. That's... kinda what happened here. We were intimate, and then she got pregnant. Might not've happened... exactly in the normal way, but it still happened in that order. And mad as I might be at her for doin' something so goddamn selfish, I can't punish the baby for her actions. I just can't do that."

"And your friends have to be cut out of your life for that because?" Sammy asks, eyebrow inching higher as Troy goes on. He has a lot to say on everything Loretta has done, especially about the manner in which she got pregnant. This wasn't some happy accident after all but that can wait a moment until they get there.

"Because Loretta made me choose," Troy says, sounding defeated, hurt, and exhausted. "She made me choose between you and Ben... or her and my baby."

"Pretty sure that would have made her the executioner here, not you. You wanted to have both, she's the one saying no," Sammy sighs, stretching out his legs in front of him. That old weariness is coming back. He feels very old and tired suddenly as the last of his anger drains away leaving him just feeling sad. "You're really sure that's your baby Troy? You're sure about that condom thing? And, either way, are you happy?"

"With as much as that woman's got hangups about cheating, I'm damn sure it's my baby," he leans back against the desk, folding his arms once more and crossing his legs at the ankle. "And no, I ain't happy, do I look happy? I'm miserable, I lost my two best friends, I'm bein' held hostage in an unfortunately failin' marriage by a fetus, and I'm workin' the worst job of my life so far-- and I spent some time shovelin' shit out of a barn when I was a teen. But I'm also damn sure that I'm gonna love that baby more than the whole world when it's born, and if the alternative is her leavin' me and taking that baby somewhere I can't ever see it... well what am I supposed to do, Sammy?"

Another sigh. Sammy closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. "I have an idea. A compromise that I think will make everyone...not happy but. Satisfied. A little closer to happy. Even Loretta. You talk to her about it tomorrow and see what she thinks alright?" 

He can feel his heart clench and he still hasn't opened his eyes but he knows he has to do this, it's the only thing that might start setting things back on the right track. "As far as I can tell Loretta's biggest problem is with me. So you don't see me. Don't talk to me. We don't know each other from here on out. No more calling into the show. But, you talk to Ben. Call him, text him, now and then at least. He needs you. Please. Call it a middle ground."

"Sammy..." Troy sighs heavily, hanging his head. "I want that more than anything in the world. I _want_ you, I want you _both_ more than anything. But if Loretta even finds out we had this talk... I don't think it'll matter to her that you broke in here and I was just doin' my job. And I can't tell her it was my idea, or she'll think I'm goin' soft already on my promise to stop talkin' to you boys when it ain't even been two months, and I might not be able to talk her back down off the ledge again."

He looks back up at Sammy, and the look on his face is devastating. Sammy's never seen him so heartbroken before. "You can tell Ben what's goin' on... you can tell him why I'm doin' this. Maybe it's just... temporary. Maybe we just gotta wait it out until the baby's born, and I have a chance at winning custody if we gotta split up at that point. When she's pregnant, all she's gotta do is walk away, but once that baby's in the world and tied to me legally, then I'll get at least partial custody rights." 

That's going to be too late. Troy doesn't know it but Sammy does, and as much as he wants to reach out to Troy, to offer him some reassurance and comfort to sweep away that heartbreak he can't. Instead he looks up at him and the look in his eyes is cold and hollow. Not even heartbroken, just empty. "I hope so Troy. I really do. I wish you all the luck in the world with that and I really, really hope that this somehow ends happily for you."

He drops his gaze, pulling his legs back in and curling in on himself again, defeated and out of ideas. "How much longer until Katie gets here to take me away do you think?"

Troy looks at the clock and then back at Sammy. He looks like he desperately wants to let him go, and he's agonizing over the idea of actually letting his friend get arrested at this point, but if he wants to keep up the pretense to Loretta that he's shut these two men out of his heart, he knows he has to let this play out. It's a waiting game, at this point. If things don't get drastically better by the time the baby is born, then... well, he'll have some even harder decisions to make, then. 

"About five, give or take," Troy says, and he starts fixing a styrofoam cup of coffee, black with just a pinch of sugar, from the coffee maker on the side of the room. He carries it to hold between the bars, offering it out to Sammy, alongside a packaged hostess cake. "So take these quick. I know it ain't a carrot or whatever you like to snack on, but you might not get anything else to eat or drink for the rest of the night, so beggars can't be choosers."

Sammy takes the coffee and sets the cakes aside for now, not feeling particularly hungry. "Thanks. Just so you know, I didn't mean most of what I said before. I don't think you're a coward or a disappointment. I just wanted to get you to talk to me. You're still one of the best people I know Troy and I wouldn't give up knowing you for almost anything in the world."

Troy doesn't look back at Sammy, feeling a cold pain in his heart. "You might not have meant it, but... it's true all the same. I really am sorry for the pain I caused ya'll. Loretta's monitoring my phone now, so I couldn't risk callin' ya'll to tell you what was happening. I hope Ben won't hate me too bad for this. I wouldn't blame him if he does."

"He won't. I'll make sure of it, don't worry. If anyone is to blame here it's me. I pushed you too much. I'm so sorry Troy," Sammy says again. In the back of his mind an idea starts to form and he grimaces. "It's going to be okay though. You're going to get through this. I'm sure of it."

"I sure hope so, Sammy. I sure hope so." 

Troy doesn't look at him again as he's led away by Katie, who had kindly fetched Sammy's shoes before coming to gather him, but as soon as he's out of the security office, Sammy hears him start to cry. He knows what he has to do now, and he fucking hates that he has to do it-- but he knows it's the right thing to do. 


	10. Chapter 10

The night of his arrest, Sammy doesn't get much sleep. The holding cell at the station isn’t very comfortable as he waits for Ben to finish up the show and come bail him out. He pays him back for the cost of the bail of course and promises to explain later why he was arrested after assuring him he didn’t get into any fights this time.

He goes home for a few fitful hours of sleep and a shower before heading out to try to execute his plan. If Loretta is the reason Troy can’t talk to them, can’t even consider the possibility of talking to them again in the near future, then Loretta is the person Sammy has to talk to. And boy is that not a conversation he’s looking forward to.

City hall is probably one of his least favorite buildings in town. Not because of anything wrong with it exactly, it looks fine from the outside, but because of what it’s come to represent. It’s the domain of two of his personal rivals in town and so he hesitates a moment as he sits in his car to steel himself before heading into the belly of the beast.

He knows once he goes in there, he's going to be verbally and publicly humiliated-- and he also knows that he won't be able to do a damn thing to fight back against it. It's all for the greater good-- for Ben's happiness. Not just Ben's, but Troy's. For them to be able to support one another is all Sammy needs. He's leaving town in may, permanently. He only has to stick it out a few more months. After that, all that'll matter is that Ben and Troy have eachother, and he won't be around anymore to fight Loretta on their behalf. So it has to happen now. 

Pocketing his keys, he starts up the front steps, a pit already forming in his stomach. This is going to be absolutely fucking miserable. The security is unpleasant and the elevator ride is unbearable, the stupid music makes him feel queasy, and as he steps out onto Grisham's floor, a sense of finality washes over him. 

The main area of Grisham's pulpit is a massive chamber just filled with open cubicles, short walls that are barely chest-height set up between desks, all gathered in a semi-circle around a big statue of a bronze globe. It's kind of garish, honestly. He spots Loretta immediately typing away on her computer at her desk, completely unaware of his presence. 

He takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders before approaching her, taking up a spot next to her desk and clearing his throat to get her attention.

“Loretta,” He says coolly. “We need to talk.”

Loretta's head snaps up and her eyes widen slightly. Sammy relishes that moment of upper hand he has over her, because he knows it won't last. Sure enough, her shock quickly transforms into anger instead, and she looks back down at her screen, ignoring him completely. 

“I’m offering a truce and the chance to publicly humiliate me. You really don’t want to pass this up Lory.” He says, rolling his eyes. “Take a coffee break and let’s talk.”

" _You_ don't get to call me Lory," she snaps without looking up from her screen. "I'm not taking my break for the likes of you. You can stand right there and I'll keep working, thank you very much."

“Fine,” Sammy says and takes a seat on the empty space on the desk next to her because there’s really only so much he can take at once. “I’m here to offer you a compromise. A way to make Troy a little happier with you and keep me out of yours and his life forever, and for me to get something I want all in one go. Basically I stay out of his life, I won’t see him or talk to him anymore. Ever. But you call him right now and lift the ban on Ben.”

That does get Loretta's attention, enough that she lifts her eyes off her work and stops typing for a moment to inspect Sammy, as if looking for whether he's telling the truth. After appraising him for a moment, she looks back at her screen and says, "No."

Sammy rolls his eyes again. “Im not done. There has to be something in it for you right? Beyond a happy husband and being a half way decent human being? So. If you agree you get whatever you want from me, here and now with only two caveats. Any demands, humiliation, dressing down. Hell, you want me to go into Grisham’s office and tell him he’s the greatest mayor and most handsome bastard this town has ever seen and record it for YouTube I’ll do it.”

"The Mayor doesn't _need_ your support," Loretta says coolly. "And _I_ don't need your _deals_ , Stevens. You think Troy isn't happy, you have another thing coming. He's been floating around the house since we had our long talk, he's happier than he's ever been. We're having a baby. Something you wouldn't understand the beauty and majesty of, I'm sure. Nothing and nobody is ever going to make him happier than his own wife. Especially not _Ben Arnold._ "

“I know Troy, Loretta. You can lie to everyone else but I know him and I can recognize a hostage situation when I see one. If you think you can keep this going past when that baby is born without making compromises then _you’ve_ got another thing coming.” Sammy says, his voice going low and intense as he stares down at her. “I’m giving you a shot to make this work for both of you. You should take it while you have the chance.”

"You think you know my own husband better than me?" Loretta says, standing up. She's definitely attracting attention now, there are eyes darting over to them from other cubicles. Sammy expected it, but the scrutiny is no less humiliating to withstand. "You think you're such hot shit, Stevens. You come into town like you own the place, making enemies and acting like a big, swaggering ass. You don't know Troy better than I do, nobody does. This baby is going to come, and we're going to be a happy family-- _without_ you OR Crybaby Arnold."

“You’re a fucking idiot Loretta. I do know Troy and I know he was two steps from leaving you that day,” Sammy says keeping his voice low. “You know it, I know it, and if you don’t want the whole town to know it you’ll watch your goddamn mouth about Ben, alright? I’m trying to help you and Troy. I don’t want him to lose his family. I want him to be happy. For fucks sake Loretta try to think beyond your twisted selfish paranoid delusions for one second and think of the long game for a minute. A happy Troy is gonna be a lot better for you in the long run than keeping him prisoner.”

"I'm sorry, I thought you came here to try and bargain with me, and now you're insulting me?" Loretta is speaking loud enough for everyone to hear now, and she's clearly doing it on purpose. "What the hell makes you think you're in any position to bargain? I hold all the cards here, Stevens, I'd be doing you a _favor_ to listen to you, and you've been nothing but a thorn in my side from the first day we met. Why should I do _anything_ for you? Why should I care how your stupid boyfriend feels?"

“Jack in the box Jesus,” Sammy groans, forcing himself not to roll his eyes again and trying to keep down his anger. “You shouldn’t! You shouldn’t at all! But as I have explained multiple times now you should care about how _Troy_ feels. Because his happiness can only benefit you. More than that, I am offering you the chance to look like the bigger and better person here. _And_ I’m giving you a guaranteed promise that I will stay away from you and Troy. You’re getting the lesser of two evils by a long shot if you take this offer Loretta. Because if you don’t there’s no guarantee I won’t keep being a real pain in the ass about this. So I am begging you, _pleading_ with you, please consider it. My offer stands until I leave this building. So just think it over.”

Loretta squints at him for a long time. She hates that he's starting to make sense. "It's not real begging unless you're on your knees," she says coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. There's some snickering coming from other cubicles, now.

Sammy’s eyes narrow and he has to bite his tongue to keep from making a snarky comment about how he didn’t realize that's what she was into, but after only a second of hesitation he slides off the desk and onto the floor, and clasps his hands together in front of him, fighting the sensation of bile rising in his throat the absolute glee he sees in her eyes at his gesture.

“I wasn’t kidding Loretta. I’m willing to go pretty fucking low here for my friends, so please. Call Troy.”

"You think just getting on your knees is enough? After the damage you've done?" Loretta says, shifting her weight smugly onto one foot. "It's not enough for you to just grovel. After everything you've done, not only to my family but to my _town?_ It's going to take a lot more than a little garden-variety groveling to convince me to hear you out."

She advances slowly on Sammy, her expression shifting from smug to enraged. "You think I just want you to stay away from my family? I want you out of my entire _town_. I want you out of my _state_ \-- out of my _country_ if you can swing it. I want you to pack up your _meaningless_ little life and _leave King Falls_." 

Sammy swallows hard and looks down at the floor. She can’t know. There’s no way she can know about his plans, he hasn't told anyone. So maybe he can make this work. Maybe he can actually do this, if he can just convince her it was her idea.

“Okay,” He says softly, hanging his head. “If that’s what it takes. Fine.”

Loretta looks so smug that Sammy wants to scream, and it's only made worse by the muttering now floating around between the peanut gallery. The fact that there's an audience to this display makes him burn all the more hotly.

"Well well, look at you," she says, sounding somehow even more smug than she looks. "Finally taking some fucking responsibility for your actions. I'll let Troy know he's off the hook for Arnold when, and _only_ when, you're out of my town for good. Not a second sooner."

“My contract isn’t up until May. I can’t leave until then but I can swear I won’t renew my contract and give you proof I haven’t if you let Troy talk to Ben,” Sammy says, looking up at her. “I’m not an idiot Loretta, I’m not gonna hang onto some promise that’ll only come into fruition when I’m out of town. You call Troy right now, I call Merv. Fair is fair.”

"You think I care about you feeling like things are _fair_ , Stevens?" Loretta laughs meanly. "Here I thought you actually cared about your good friend Troy. All you care about is Ben, you've made that much crystal clear. If you want your boytoy to ever talk to my husband again, then you'll take my offer as it stands, no returns, warranties or substitutions. _Prove_ yourself to be the sacrificial lamb we both know you don't have it in you to be."

“I _do_ care about Troy. A whole lot more than I think you ever have. Which is why I want this resolved as soon as possible,” Sammy snaps. He stands up off the floor so he’s towering over Loretta, glowering down at her. “I’m out of here in May. If you think you can keep Troy like this until then, a prisoner in his own home, well. I really think you’re out of your mind. But I’ll uphold my end of the bargain. I just hope you have the decency to keep up yours.”

"We'll just have to see, won't we?" Loretta smirks, undaunted by his intimidating height. "Or-- no. I guess _I'll_ be the one to see. Get out of my building, Stevens."

There’s a moment where Sammy wonders how anyone this truly awful ever managed to win over someone as kind and good and wonderful as Troy Krieghauser. It boggles the mind. But he doesn’t say anything, he just turns and leaves. Behind him he can hear the rest of the office break into applause over Loretta’s heroic dressing-down of the smug local dissident radio host and he can picture the self-satisfied look she must be wearing in his mind.

It says something that it’s only _one of_ the most humiliating moments of his life.


	11. Chapter 11

Living a life without Troy Krieghauser is like stumbling around in the dark after living your life in the sunlight for so long. Living without his particular brand of joy, warmth and sunshine is like a physical ache, after knowing what life could be like with him in it. 

Maintaining a professional relationship with their best friend for the sake of his unborn child is difficult, but not impossible. Every time Ben or Sammy consider breaking and seeking some comfort from their friend, they remember how very high the stakes are. If Loretta leaves him before the baby is born then she'll get full rights and full custody wherever she goes. He only gets partial rights if he's there when the baby comes. And if that means spending nearly a full year without him, then so be it. As difficult as that year is.

He doesn't call into the show anymore unless it's a professional courtesy of some kind, and when he does, the calls are short, sweet and to the point. Loretta had said she doesn't listen to the show, but people talk and they gossip, and nobody wants the hammer to come down on Troy's head less than Sammy and Ben-- so if he starts getting a little long-jawed, they always hurry him along, as much as it pains them to do so. 

The longest conversation they have is when he calls in to tell them he has the Dark and Jacob Williams in his truck-- and they have to begrudgingly convince him to let them be taken in by a "real" officer-- because even months later, his suspension still is in limbo and Gunderson will use any excuse to ruin him permanently, including punishing him for taking the law into his own hands. 

There's a kind of light that's gone from Ben as he waits, agonized, for Troy to return to his life. But it's nothing compared to Sammy. There's a strange, horrible sensation in Sammy's chest every time he wakes up and remembers all over again that he has yet another day to live without Troy in it. It feels disturbingly like how he feels about Jack, how miserable he is without Troy in his life, but Troy isn't gone. He's right here, still in town, just out of reach. He can't tell if it's better or worse. 

It shouldn’t surprise anyone that Sammy is set to snap when Frickard calls in on February 14th. He’s already been so tightly wound, so depressed, hearing his voice is enough to push him that extra little bit. So he’s mean. He doesn’t heed Frickard’s warnings to stop. And Frickard brings up Jack.

Sammy sees red. There’s fire and ice in his veins in equal measure and he can’t remember a time he’s ever been so angry. He explodes and throws the sound board and the on air light goes dim and so does the light in his eyes as just as quickly the fury and hatred fades to horror. It all rushes back to him now and he realizes what just happened. For the first time in his whole life he’s out to the world. He tries to run away and make excuses, tries to escape Ben’s gentleness, his love and comfort and acceptance because he knows he doesn’t deserve it. But Ben doesn’t let him and he breaks. He cries in the studio and tells him the whole story like he should have from the beginning and there’s a small part of him that wishes they could call Troy too because his gentle comforting voice, his quiet protective presence might make all of this just a little bit more bearable despite every fiber of his being telling him to run and hide and never let these people, his friends who he’s lied to for years, ever see his face again. 

Finally he can’t take it anymore. He tells Ben he’s quitting. That he’s leaving town, and Ben is crying too. Begging him to stay, to let him fix this. He hates himself for being another thing that’s going to break Ben Arnold but he can’t stay and be something else that throws him into danger either, so he has to go. He has to leave before his resolve breaks.

Before his butt has even left his chair, the phone on the desk rings. Despite the on air light being out and the computers being off and the power being messed up, the hotline rings. Sammy and Ben share a confused look-- the hotline is rigged up to the whole system. If it's out, the phone should be too. Does that mean they've been broadcasting this whole time?

"Dude, we don't have to answer it," Ben says, but Sammy's already reaching for his computer and patches the phone into the air. When Troy's voice comes through the line, it's like two drug addicts taking a hit for the first time in months-- the relief at the sound of his voice is so palpable and immediate. 

"Sammy," Troy's voice is low and quiet, it's clear he's hiding. They don't have to ask him why, and they don't blame him. "I'm... I'm so sorry, man. I can't talk long, I'm hunkered down in the basement on the ol' emergency landline down here, but I... I just had to break the silence. I had to, for this. Ya'll have been on air this whole time, I heard everything-- I still listen some nights after Loretta's asleep. I know I shouldn't, I know I shouldn't be sneakin' around, but I miss you boys something fierce."

Sammy closes his eyes and prays to whatever powers or forces are at work in King Falls that the floor will just open up and claim him here and now. There’s a ringing in his ears and his heart is pounding in his chest.

“We-- we miss you too Troy,” He manages to choke out, fresh tears running down his cheeks. “So you-everyone- heard all of that? Everything I just said? About Jack?

"Yeah, man. I heard it all. Anyone listening did," Troy says softly. "And I heard you're packin' up and leaving, to boot. I know I'm far from a position to beg you to stay, seein' as I've barely looked your way in... what's it been, five months? Lordy."

"He _has to_ stay," Ben says, his throat clenching up. "This town has lost so much, it can't lose Sammy Stevens, too. Sammy, you're the best thing that's happened to this town in a long, long time. You're the best thing that's happened to _me_."

"I second that," Troy says softly. 

“I can’t stay,” Sammy says, strained and hurting. He hasn’t opened his eyes, knowing better than to look across the desk at Ben right now. “I can’t. I’m so tired guys. I’ve been so tired and so alone for so long and I just can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep losing people and losing hope and fighting and losing again and again. I’m done. It’s over. And you two will be better off without me here. Trust me.”

"What are you doing when you leave if not losing more people?" Ben says frantically. "You haven't been alone, you've had-- well. You've at least had me this whole time. No offense, Troy."

"None taken," Troy says softly. "And I agree. I think--"

There's a click, and then the sound of Loretta's voice comes into the line. She'd picked up the upstairs landline, and all three of their stomachs drop simultaneously as she sneers, "You sneaky, two-timing lowlife--"

"Shitfire on a haybale," Troy drops the phone he's so startled. 

"Oh no," Ben grips his shirt in both hands, twisting the fabric. They can only withstand so much heartache in one night. 

There's some distant shouting as Troy fumbles the phone back into his hands and hisses, "I've been caught red-handed, fellas. I fear I'm not long for this world. If you don't hear back from me in half an hour, assume I'm facedown in a ditch somewhere. I'm sorry--" 

"TROY!" Loretta's scream comes into full focus and the sound of her yanking the phone out of his hand can be heard. It slams into the receiver on the wall with force, but unbeknownst to her or Troy, in her haste to hang up she hadn't lined it up perfectly. It bounces off the wall hook and lands on the floor face-up instead, but she's already laying into Troy, so neither of them even notice that every word they say is being broadcasted directly to Sammy and Ben. "HOW did I know you'd call your buddy up the instant you find out he's gay!"

"Loretta, it ain't like that!" Troy insists, his voice cracking. "It's just--"

"It's just WHAT!" Loretta shouts. "It's just that you manage to be HERE and be PRESENT for this family for MONTHS but the second you hear that your ex-friend is gay you go running back to him!" 

"I didn't go _runnin_ ' nowhere, Loretta, I'm in the basement of _our house_ ," Troy says, trying to keep his tone even. 

"That doesn't change the fact that you broke your vow of silence with that cocksucker the moment you knew!"

"Don't talk about him that way, it's just disrespectful," Troy's voice is starting to waver with anger. 

"Why should you care how I talk about him! You're not his friend anymore! At least that's what I THOUGHT!" Loretta shrieks. "How many times have you gone sneaking around behind my back to talk to him!"

"I haven't, god dang it!" Troy raises his voice finally. "The only reason I called him tonight is because I heard his goddang heart break live on the air on account of him gettin' outed against his will, and then sayin' he was gonna leave town! Like it or not Loretta, just cause I've promised to stop talkin' to Sammy and Ben, that don't immediately erase any feelings I've got for them!"

Ben looks across at Sammy with a panicked expression. "Sh-- should we speak up? Do they-- they probably don't know we can hear them," he murmurs, his voice trembling.

Something in Sammy snaps and he starts to laugh. He’s still crying, tears flowing more freely than ever but there’s a manic little giggle to it now as everything piles on top of him and he’s overcome by the sheer absurdity of it all. How every time he thinks tonight can’t possibly get worse, the universe does something to prove him wrong. All that’s left is for Lily Wright herself to show up at the door and everything will be complete.

“Yeah, yeah you probably should,” He manages to choke out between crazed giggles and gasping sobs. “We don’t need everyone’s nightmare of a life spilled across the airwaves tonight right?”

"Guys, we can hear you!" Ben says into the mic, but the shouting just continues. There's no way he can be heard through the phone sitting face-up on the floor over the sound of their arguing. 

"Well you better get OVER you _feelings_ for him, because he IS leaving!" Loretta continues. "I made sure of that myself!"

"You-- what? What're you sayin?" Troy's voice is small and confused and sad. 

"I'm saying that Sammy Stevens is bad for you, Troy. He's a bad man and he's been a bad influence on you, and our family will never be happy as long as he's around! So I told him to leave, and he's deciding to be a decent man for once in his life, and he's keeping his word. He's leaving this city and taking his gay little temptations with him."

"Tempt-- temptations?!" Troy repeats. "I've about had it up to here with you always assumin' I'm out to cheat on you! Stupid decisions I made when I was a _child_ shouldn't still be held over my head like the goddang sword of damocles by someone who wasn't even affected by those choices! You ain't been fair to me a day in our marriage since I told you the god's honest about my previous marriage-- somethin' I didn't even have to do! I did it cause I wanted to be open with you and you've turned it into a dang knife ever since!" 

"It's not MY FAULT you CHEATED on your last wife! If you didn't want it to be a knife you should have fucking thought of that before you did it!" Loretta screams. 

Ben's eyes widen as he looks across at Sammy. "Troy was a cheater?" he whispers under his breath. " _Our_ Troy?"

Sammy shrugs, shoulders still shaking with mingled laughter and sobs. “He was 18! He was 18 and made a stupid mistake! And she’s gonna use that against him for the rest of his fucking life!” Sammy says as best he can manage. “Fuck I need to get out of here. Cut the line Ben just cut them off. Shut it down please I can’t- I can’t take any more of this. I can’t listen to her talk to him like this. I’ve had enough.”

"The... lines are all glitchy. If I had the circuit board-- okay, that was uncalled for, I'm sorry," Ben sighs, tapping a few buttons on his keyboard, doing his best to swallow the bitter pill of knowing that Sammy had some kind of secrets about Troy's past that even he wasn't privy to. "If I could just--" 

"There ain't nothin' I can ever do that'll make you happy, is there Loretta?" Troy says, sounding as defeated as he is angry. "I took a humiliating, thankless job to provide for our family! I stayed with you even after you did somethin' so disrespectful as diggin' through the trash to get yourself pregnant on a used condom! I renounced my two best friends in the whole world for you! What else do you want from me! You've gotten my dignity, my free will and my happiness! What else is there left for you to take from me!" 

"Oh BOO HOO you're such a VICTIM," Loretta cuts in remorselessly. "Poor sad man can't even nut up and do what he has to do for his family without crying about it!" 

"Of course I'm cryin!" Troy's voice breaks. "I'm miserable, Loretta!"

"You don't know the meaning of the word," She sneers.

"This is unbearable," Ben groans. "I can't even cut the feed, the computer thinks we're already off the air. Can you do it from your end?"

Sammy finally forces himself to regain a little of his composure and tries to shut the phone lines down through his computer but its also a no go. Like Ben's computer, it already thinks they're off the air. 

"Nothing. I've got nothing. I can try breaking more of our studio, see if that shuts anything down," Sammy offers half heartedly. "Or just drive over there and hang up the phone myself."

"I think if you drive over there, the phone will be the least of your problems," Ben laughs humorlessly. "I'd say we could call his cell phone to get his attention, but she fucking changed that too. She really has taken everything from him, hasn't she?"

"Everything that has happened to us, every bad thing that has happened to our family is YOUR fault, Troy!" Loretta continues. "YOU got suspended, YOU got too chummy with your friends! YOU put off having a baby! YOU cheated! Tell me I'm wrong!" 

"Loretta, I--"

"No! Don't interrupt me! Am I wrong or am I right?"

"You're... you're right."

"You're damn right I'm right," she sounds insufferably smug as she says it. Ben is crying again. "I'm fixing everything, Troy. That's what I do. Soon, Sammy Stevens will be gone and you'll never have to suffer being corrupted by him again."

"He never corrupted me," Troy says, sounding absolutely beaten down. 

"Is that really the stance you want to take, Troy?" Loretta snarls. "Then tell me to my face. Tell me he's never tempted you."

"Lory--"

"Say it! If it's true, then say it! Tell me you've never had a wayward thought towards him! Tell me you've never thought about putting your hands on him! You cheated on your last wife with a man-- tell me, what did that man look like?"

"Loretta, this ain't fair--"

"Tell me, Troy! Tell me you haven't thought about it! You still haven't said it!"

"Loretta--"

"TELL ME!" 

"God dang it, I have! Is that what you wanna hear?! Of course I have! He's kinder to me than you've been in a long time, and sometimes the mind drifts off to where the grass is greener! But havin' thoughts and actin' on them are two very different ballgames, Loretta! I have remained faithful to you because I loved-- because I _love_ you, not because of any guilt you've put over me like a damn noose! I'm a different man than I used to be-- I'm a _­man_ , period, I was a _boy_ when I made that stupid mistake, and I do enough hard work to keep myself from ever bein' that man again-- regardless of the awful things you say to me and accuse me of! I'm a good man, Loretta, and I've worked too hard to be good for you to keep actin' like I'm two footsteps away from climbin' someone else's tree!" 

"You are fucking disgusting." 

The **_SLAP_ **they hear ring over the line makes their stomachs drop. Ben has learned many new things about Troy tonight he has no idea about. He was a cheater in the past, he's not heterosexual, he has _feelings_ for Sammy-- but this? Troy Krieghauser, a _wifebeater_? It's more than he can bear. He can't even breathe as he turns wide, scared eyes towards Sammy.

Sammy is deathly pale and still as a stone. His mind is racing a mile a minute trying to keep up with everything that's happening right now. Troy has thought about him romantically? Sexually? He isn't sure which, but either way it's too much to take, his stomach doing little flip flops at the thought, that he isn't sure are caused by trepidation or maybe hope. That thought sends a spike of white hot guilt through him so strong he shudders but it's quickly swept away in the face of the slap that rings across the phone line. 

Troy wouldn't. He would never. Sammy knows that. He's sure of it, he has to be. His world has been rocked by too much tonight to be turned that far on it's head. Troy Krieghauser would never lay a hand on his wife in anger, never. Sammy had offered to let Troy take a few swings at him and he hadn't taken him up on it, there's no way he would. But- there's so much happening tonight. Maybe he was finally pushed just a little too far?

The silence is dreadful, and it goes on for far too long. When it's finally broken, it's Troy who speaks. 

"Really, Loretta? Is that what we're doin' now? We're hittin' eachother?" 

Ben releases a long-held breath. It isn't good that Loretta hit him-- but it's better than the alternative. It's better than Troy being a hitter. 

"You fucking deserve it. You're a dirty, horrible, lying, cheating man," Loretta hisses. 

Troy sighs wearily. "I ain't never lifted a finger to another person since I married you, Loretta. But I can't convince you of that. If you're gonna keep bein' obsessed with this idea that I'm a cheater, and there ain't nothing I can do to change your mind about it, maybe we just ain't gonna work. Maybe we tough this out for that baby, and once it's born and we've gotten custody sorted out, we go our separate ways."

"You really think I'm going to let you anywhere near this baby, Troy?" Loretta laughs, her voice spiteful. "After the _filth_ you just admitted to?"

"There's a lotta things I'll tolerate from you, Loretta. Running off with our baby ain't one of em," Troy says, his voice low. 

Loretta laughs again, louder. "It's not even your baby! Do a little math for once in your fucking life, you inbred hick." 

Troy's voice is a shaken, soft, "What?"

"I got myself inseminated more than a week before you came crawling home when you were fired," she says, sounding smug and proud as she says it. "I knew it was just a matter of time before you left me after you eyeballed Pearl's tits, and I'm tired of waiting around for idiot men to get their shit together long enough for me to have a baby."

Troy is struck absolutely speechless. 

"What, nothing to say? I thought you didn't _want_ to have a baby, and now you're going to cry over losing one?"

"I think you should go," Troy says, his voice remarkably calm. 

"I beg your pardon?"

"I think you should pack a bag and go stay in a hotel for the night, or I'm liable to say some real hurtful things here in a moment," Troy repeats. "I ain't kidding, Loretta, get. Get up those stairs and pack a bag, and get outta my house."

"Ben. Ben I need to go," Sammy says, finally hitting his limit. There's only so much he can take and hearing Troy's marriage falling apart over the phone is the end of it. Knowing that its his fault, that he caused all of this is the end of what he can handle, and he stands up so quickly his chair falls over with a crash. "I'm sorry I just- I can't."

He looks over at his friend, eyes wide and pleading for him to understand how sorry he is to leave him like this but that there's truly only so much a man can take in one night.

"Wait-- Sammy! Don't-- Sammy!" 

He's already gone, leaving Ben sitting in the studio alone, watching his friend run full tilt out of the radio station, unsure if he'll ever see him again. 


	12. Chapter 12

The worst part of having Troy back in his life is that Ben can't even enjoy it. Not with Sammy gone, now. He isn't picking up his calls or returning his emails, and if not for the wild bigfoot-style sightings of him people report into the show in a new running segment Ben is calling "Where In The World Is Sammy Sandiego" he might have feared the worst. Running the show alone or with Chet has been less than ideal-- but at least Troy is his friend again. 

Troy hasn't been faring much better, but for a completely different reason. After finding out his entire dirty laundry had been aired live on the radio, he just about curled up in a ball and wanted to die. He took a page out of Sammy's book and used a couple of vacation days himself just to pull himself together, something he doesn't feel guilty for doing for now that things with Loretta have culminated the way they have. 

He tried to be patient with Sammy and let him come back at his own pace, but it's been almost two weeks now and they still haven't heard from him at the station. Ben has enough respect for Sammy to stay out of his face when he's in such a bad place-- but either Troy doesn't have as much, or he has even _more_ , because he plans to actually do something about it. 

Marching right up to Sammy's apartment, he knocks firmly on the door. "Sammy Stevens. Open up, it's the police!" he gets no response. "That was just a little joke. It's Troy. I know you're in here, I saw your car in the lot. Come on and open this door so we can have a chitchat?"

Still no response. Troy sighs. "Sammy, I'm gonna give you to the count of ten before I start pickin' this here lock. One... two..."

He gets to seven before Sammy opens the door. He looks...awful. His hair is down, out of his usual casual bun but clearly hasn't been brushed in all the time he's been away from work. The bags under his eyes, a near constant feature especially in the last year since Emily was abducted, have gotten so dark he looks like he's been punched in the face. His clothes are dirty and his beard has grown well past endearing stubble territory.

"Oh, good," Troy sighs. "I don't know how to pick locks."

"I'm not really in the mood to entertain right now, Troy." He says, leaning heavily on the door frame, a beer bottle hanging from one hand. "Kind of busy enjoying my little pity party. But you can report back to Ben that I am still in town. Merv won't let my buy out my contract so I'm here until May 1st."

"S'alright, I ain't here to be entertained," Troy says. "I'm here to drag you kickin' and screamin' outta the dark and back into your life. If you're gonna leave in May ain't nobody can stop you, but this miserable funk you done sank yourself into is startin' to stink up the joint. Will you lemme in, or do I gotta throw you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes?"

"I'd like to see you try." Sammy snorts, rolling his eyes. He turns around to head back into the apartment, leaving the door open for Troy to follow him inside. "I think I'm allowed a little miserable funk. I did get outted, accidentally reveal that my- Jack has been missing for three years to the entire town without meaning to, and destroyed my best friend's marriage all in one night. I have a right to fucking wallow a little."

"You and me are in the same boat, my friend," Troy says as he enters the apartment. It stinks like leftover takeout and beer, but he's not one to judge. "I wasn't ever as deep in secretsville about my sesxuality as you were, but broadcastin' it loud and clear to the whole town wasn't ever part of the plan, neither. For the record, you didn't destroy diddly squat. Loretta done did that all on her own."

"Pushed her over the edge though didn't I? First just by existing then by being a cocksucker leading you into temptation or whatever it was she called me," Sammy says with a hollow laugh. He drops onto his couch and finishes what's left in the bottle before tossing it away. 

"I'm really sorry Troy," He says, a little more softly. He looks up at his friend and there's a little bit of the old Sammy there again sad and soft but more himself. "You shouldn't have had to go through all of that. All that shit she tried to pile on you, that was just- god it was fucked up. I'm sorry."

"I've made that bed and been lyin' in it for a couple weeks now," Troy says, dropping down to his good knee in front of Sammy. There's unspoken... something, between them, now that Sammy knows how he feels-- but he's not about to bring it up, and he doubts Sammy is either. Not with the way things have been, and especially not with Jack brought back to the forefront. Troy's insignificant crush means nothing in the face of everything that's come to pass in the last fourteen days. He reaches out to take both of Sammy's hands in both of his, squeezing them tightly, trying to encourage some sensation back into his numb body. 

"You listen to me, Sammy Stevens, alright? Eyes on me, mister. Show me those baby blues," he says sternly, and waits for Sammy to look up at him. "You didn't have a damn thing to do with my marriage to Loretta fallin' to shambles. She made all her own choices like the adult she is. You mighta brought her true colors outta her, but her colors bein' what they are was her fault from the start. You did your best to do right by that woman, and so did I."

"All I ever wanted was for you to be happy Troy. I tried so hard to make that happen," Sammy whispers. His hands shake a little in Troy's grip and there's fresh tears in his eyes. He hadn't thought he had any tears left to cry after these past few weeks but there they are just the same. "Troy you have to know I never wanted things to fall apart for you. I begged her to let you at least have Ben back in your life when I knew I was leaving. To try to make things work for you two, I thought maybe that would help make you happy. Make all of you happy. I just wanted to fix something before I left."

"I know it, I know it. You don't got a thing to apologize for," Troy says, desperately wanting to hug Sammy, but afraid of what implications that gesture might carry, at this point. The last thing in the world he wants is for Sammy to feel like he's pressuring him into feeling any kind of way about anything. 

He doesn’t have to. Looking up at Troy Sammy feels like he could fall right into the former deputy’s eyes. His earnestness, his gentleness, all overwhelm him and for a moment some of his guilt is swept away. Maybe it’s the sorrow and loneliness, maybe it’s the beer he’s been drinking, more likely it’s just Troy himself but before Sammy can think too much about it he leans forward to press his lips against the younger man’s.

Troy's eyes widen significantly in surprise. He knows there was some unspoken something between them that they weren't anywhere near ready to unpack, but he figured that would be addressed later, or possibly never, considering everything that was uncovered about Jack. An ex-fiance who went missing to the ether was a lot heavier than just the bad breakup Troy had been assuming ever since Sammy first drunkenly told him about the man. 

He knows at this point, Sammy must just be looking for comfort, and knowing what he does about Troy's feelings ever since they were broadcasted for the whole town to hear, he's looking for it in Troy. And god help him, there's a part of Troy who wants to give in. Who wants to take advantage of Sammy's desperation and loneliness and indulge him in this fleeting gesture just to satisfy the part of him that has been hungering after Sammy emotionally for so many years. There's a part of him who wants to take care of Sammy and give him the closeness he's craving with another person who cares about him. 

But there's a larger part of him that knows it isn't right. That knows he isn't Jack and can never replace him. He catches Sammy by the shoulders and gently pushes him back. 

"Sammy," he murmurs. "This ain't right. You know that. You're hurtin' after Jack somethin' awful, and you want to feel somethin' else, _anything_ else. But I can't in good conscience give that to you."

“Right.” Sammy mutters, pulling back. He leans away from Troy dropping his eyes in shame. The guilt comes back full force and he curls up as small as his lanky body will allow on the couch. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I guess-- m'drunker than I thought. I’m really sorry Troy...”

"Hey, it's alright," Troy says softly, dropping his hands to his lap, still knelt in front of Sammy. "You're lookin' for ways to run away from your feelings, but I think that's your problem, Sammy. Ain't no amount of running ever gonna get you away from this hurt. It ain't gonna stop chasin' you until you turn around and face it. You... ain't okay right now, and that's okay. It's okay to not be okay. It hurts real bad... hurts worse than you can bear, but you gotta bear it cause if you just keep runnin' you're gonna run yourself into the ground. And you don't gotta bear it alone."

“I don’t have to bear it at all. That’s why I’m leaving. Like I said, I’m done fighting all of this Troy,” Sammy sighs. “I’m so fucking done. It’s gotten too hard, too heavy, I can’t do it anymore. And I just can’t keep trying. I know you all think there’s still hope but that’s only because you’re just finding out. I’ve been living with this for three fucking years. I can’t hope anymore. Running is the only option left.”

"You think leavin' town means you ain't gonna bear the pain no more? I got bad news, buddy, that pain's gonna follow you everywhere you go, no matter what, for the rest of your life unless you face it, deal with it, and take it down," Troy sighs, and finally settles down to sit right on the hardwood floor in front of Sammy's couch. "Have you ever considered therapy? Now I'm serious, I know some folks got big feelings on the subject, but talkin' through what you're feelin' with a professional might do you a world of good. I'm a good listener, and I give alright advice, but I ain't trained in the ancient art of Professional Feel-Goodery."

Sammy is quiet. He can’t tell Troy he isn’t planning on just moving to a new town and starting over again. Troy won’t let that slide. So he doesn’t say anything on the subject, just stares off into the middle distance rather than meet Troy’s eyes.

“And tell them what? A disembodied shadow void ate the love of my life? I don’t think that’ll go over very well, even in King Falls,” He says. “I know how to handle this. I know what I need to do. I’ve known for a while now, it’s just a matter of getting through the next couple months.”

"And what's that, exactly? You gonna change your name, dye your hair and pretend Jack never existed?" Troy asks, sounding frustrated. "Damn near every last person around you wants to help support you, Sammy, and you don't have a good goddamn reason for shoulderin' this alone. You listen to me, mister." 

He stands up again to put himself on the couch beside Sammy, and puts a firm hand on his shoulder. "I ain't here with the same kind of bright-eyed enthusiastic optimism that Ben's got. Jack's gone. I ain't here to refute that and try to give you hope for ever seein' him again if you don't wanna hear it. I know how that feels, believe you me, when I finally decided to cut ties with my daddy it was the worst feelin' in the world, made all the worse by the rest of my family tellin' me that maybe if I just tried or hoped or prayed hard enough, we'd have a good relationship one day. Now I know that ain't exactly the same thing as what you went through, but I can relate with that feelin' like the hope is worse than the resignation." 

Squeezing Sammy's shoulder, he sighs. "What I am here to say, is that it don't gotta be the end of your life. Come back to work. Let your friends and family help hold you up. We all wanna be here for you, Sammy, just... _let_ us."

“I can’t promise that. I wish I could but I can’t. I don’t deserve it. I did nothing. For three years I did nothing and Jack was right here, in the void. He was so close and I sat there, on the radio every night, and did absolutely nothing,” Sammy says, anger and pain clear in his voice. There’s a deep seated loathing that comes across clear in his words that he makes no attempt to hide anymore.

“I’ll go back to work. Until May 1st. Because I can’t hide here forever. But that’s the most I can give you right now. That’s all I can agree to because that’s all I’m worth right now. A few more months to say my goodbyes and then I have to go. Because I can’t stay here and every day sit down across from Ben and know he was able to do what I couldn’t. I can’t face Emily knowing there’s part of me that wishes she wasn’t here.” He says, low and strained. “Because maybe if they had failed it would hurt a little less that I did too. I can’t face Tim and Mary when I feel the same thing about them. I just can’t do it.”

"Well... it's a start. Baby steps," Troy concedes with a sigh. "If you take the first step, maybe the rest will come easier after. They say the hardest part of doin' anything worth doin' is gettin' started."

“Maybe,” Sammy agrees halfheartedly. “Thank you for coming by Troy. I appreciate it.”

"I didn't just come by to give you a pep talk, buddy," Troy says, standing up off the couch. "I'm here to strip the depression outta this apartment. I figured after two weeks the funk would be built up in here in a real bad way, so I'm here to help you scrub it out and get the feng shui in here put back in order. Good vibes perpetuate good vibes and all. For starters-- did you hang _blankets_ up over these windows?"

Sammy knows that there's not much point in cleaning up his apartment just a couple months out from the biggest, worst decision of his life, but he also knows it'll make Troy feel better to feel like he's doing something productive to make Sammy's life better. Not to mention, it would suck to have to leave this mess behind for the landlord to clean up later with a shovel-- and it's much less daunting to tackle it with a friend. 

By the time Troy's set to leave with Sammy's apartment approaching spotless, the younger man lingers in the door for a moment. There's something there, still, something they still haven't addressed-- and Sammy doubts they ever will. Troy would be far from the first heart he's broken, but at least he'll be the last. 

"I'll let Ben know to expect you on monday," Troy says, holding trash bags in either hand, the last two that have to be carried down to the dumpster. "And..." and what? Sorry? Thank you? There's a million things he wants to say, and none of them seem appropriate, so he just settles on, "Wash your hair."

Sammy barks out a sharp laugh, more surprise than amusement but at least it makes him smile for a minute. It’s small and fragile, like a smile made of frost that will dissolve at the slightest touch but it’s there.

“Maybe I’ll just cut it off. It’s kind of a tangled mess,” He jokes.

"I think there's a number of folks in town who'd boycott the station if you did that, but it's your hair, your choice," Troy says, glad to see Sammy smiling. He reaches out to grab and squeeze Sammy's shoulder. "I'll see you on monday, compadre." 

It's hard, turning away from Sammy now, but he does it. He doesn't really have a choice. Something feels wrong, still-- but Troy has to believe that's just the leftover funk. Any alternative is too painful to think about.


	13. Chapter 13

Sammy does go back to work, even if he’s late. He goes to work every day like he said he would until May 1st and sits through Ben’s pleas for him to stay, through Troy and Herschel’s sweet but reckless revenge against Frickard, through the seemingly endless onslaught of well meaning callers and fans of the show who all have their own arguments for why he shouldn’t quit come the next Sammiversary. 

Ben makes him promise he’ll show up for his special live show at the auditorium. Sammy says he’ll be there, but he knows he’s lying. He hopes the disappointment will make it a little easier for Ben to finally let him go. He does take the time to personally record an ad for Troy’s sheriff race and pay for it to run right before the show on May 1st. He figures it’s the least he can do for his friend since he won’t be there to tell him how much he means to him and how much he wishes it didn’t have to end this way.

The drive up to Perdition Wood is short but he spends hours lost in the trees. He walks and walks and walks until it grows dark and he wonders if he’ll ever make it there at all when finally he finds it. The dark archway in the cave and he tries to go to it. But the darkness rejects him and he finds himself on the grass outside the cave, shaking and cold down to his bones knowing, somehow, that whatever was inside has rejected him. That the Void does not want him, even as shadows start to stretch out into the world around him. 

Walt finds him there, shivering on the ground with a mixture of shame and relief as waves of realization crash down onto him. Sammy babbles apologies to the older man when he pulls him onto his bike and drags him away from the shadows, back to his car but it isn’t just him he’s apologizing too. Not really. He’s been given a second chance somehow, thanks to the Void’s rejection and he’s never been more grateful for anything in his life even as he has to face the guilt that he might have just doomed the entire town.

The next few days that follow are... weird. Every moment he spends past the event in Perdition Wood feels like borrowed time. He'd been so resigned to his fate for so many weeks that there wasn't even a version of reality in his mind where he lived past that day. It all feels so surreal, as if he'd been killed and reborn completely all in the same day, and he has to relearn basic things like conversation, manners and a will to live. 

He expected anger, honestly. Past experiences have taught him that whenever he makes a decision for himself, it's received with anger-- but in this case, all he gets is anguish, fear, and unwavering relief that his plan had failed and ultimately brought him home to them. He still hasn't resigned his contract, but at this point, his radio job is the last thing anyone is worried about. 

His life can never really go back to normal after a thing like that, and he knows it. But god if he isn't happy for the opportunity to try. And maybe if he decides to take Troy's advice and see a therapist, well. Where else but King Falls could he tell his story and have it be believed?

Ben takes him in and refuses to leave his side for more than five minutes. Locks are removed from the apartment doors, knives are cleared out of drawers, and even with all that and the constant watchful eye he's put under he can't find it in himself to mind. When Ben can't be with him he usually enlists Emily or Ron or Mary Jensen to take over and keep Sammy company.

He'd offered to have Troy come over a few times. Sammy always refuses. He doesn't say why, and Ben seems too nervous about pushing him on anything right now to ask and lets the matter drop, but he knows his friend's curiosity will only allow for that for so long. And its not that he doesn't want to see Troy. He does. _Too much._ Which is exactly the problem. 

Now that Sammy knows he's going to live, those feelings he has for Troy and that one kiss-- meant if anything as a goodbye kiss just a few months early-- are suddenly dangerous. Now if he thinks about them too much there's the possibility of them growing, becoming more than a little hero-worshipping crush that he's been nursing for years and he can't allow that to happen.

Ben would chalk it up to Sammy feeling too raw for too much company all at once, but the fact that Troy doesn't reach out to even ask to visit Sammy is too weird for Ben to handle. He has to assume it's related to sore feelings over their nearly collapsed friendship, or perhaps awkwardness over the fact that Troy hasn't asked to visit him either. 

It's while brushing his teeth one day that the thought occurs to him-- maybe Sammy is _uncomfortable_ with Troy. He'd almost forgotten about Troy's live on-air casual admission of feelings for Sammy, it had been wrapped up so much other baggage and so much else had happened since then. Knowing what he knows now about Sammy's sexuality, he knows it must not be a matter of discomfort in terms of bigotry-- but it's present all the same, and it's keeping Sammy from seeing one of his best friends. 

Marching out to the sofa where Sammy is laying back under a blanket reading, he perches on the opposite end of the couch and sighs, "Dude, we gotta talk about Troy."

Sammy lowers his book just enough to look at Ben over the top of his book. "Is he okay?" He asks, a little nervous that something has happened that he doesn't know about. He and Troy haven't been texting or calling. Haven't spoken at all since that first night when Troy was with Ben when they found him after the ufo crashed into the station and Sammy lost contact with them. He'd crashed his car and they'd come to find him but since then there seems to have been a silent, mutual understanding between him and Troy to just not talk to each other. 

It's kind of sad. Actually _really_ sad. But what's one more sad thing to add to the pile at the end of the day?

"Dude, I have _no idea_ , that's the problem!" Ben throws his hands in the air. "He's been avoiding us again. Well-- avoiding you, I'm pretty sure, because he returns my texts-- but because I'm always with you, he's avoiding me too! So what's up, why is this happening? Is this because of what he said about you on the air man, because you _know_ Troy's a good guy, he wouldn't try to pressure you into anything just because he has a crush." 

Ben stops then, a spear of ice hitting him in the chest as he comes to a horrible conclusion and he leans in slightly, lowering his voice. "He... he didn't, right?"

"No!" Sammy says immediately, dropping his book onto his chest in his hurry to reassure Ben. "No, of course not. Troy's Troy, you know he would never. Come on Ben. No. He didn't do anything. As always our favorite deputy, soon to be sheriff, was a perfect gentlemna. I was the stupid one." He admits with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

Ben's eyes widen. "Something _did_ happen?" There's that instinctive flair of jealousy that he'd been left out of the loop, but considering the events of the past few months, and the past couple weeks especially, he knows he doesn't really have any room to be making demands on personal information. Especially when historically he hasn't been the most forthcoming, himself.

Sammy groans. He should have known this was coming and he couldn't hide this from Ben forever but now that he has to admit to it he's starting to wish he could just disappear into the couch. "When I took my two week vacation after Frickard outed me, Troy came by my apartment. I was... depressed. And a little tipsy. And lonely. Troy being Troy was sweet as always and comforting and I knew already by then that I planned on... doing what I did May 1st. So I kissed him."

Ben's eyes widen even farther, and his mouth drops open. "You _kissed_ him?" he blurts out, much too loudly.

"Can you not tell the whole town please?" Sammy snaps. "Yes, I did. It was stupid. I regret it. It was just a moment of weakness. The culmination of three years of loneliness, a minor crush, and a lot of beer."

Ben shrinks down when Sammy snaps at him, gripping his shirt in both hands. "Well-- jack in the box jesus, no wonder he's-- okay, okay. Well, we can fix this, right? Are you guys... okay? Have you even texted him or anything?"

"No. What am I supposed to say? 'Sorry I kissed you that one time, it was my really bad way of saying goodbye two months early before I threw myself into the void, never thought I'd have to actually follow up. Whoops'?" Sammy asks, rolling his eyes a little.

"How about, hey sorry for scaring the shit out of you, _best friend_ , but I'm back now and you don't have to be scared to come around me?" Ben says, sounding frustrated. "He hasn't even asked to visit you, dude. Something's bad between you guys and I'm not gonna just sit here and let your friendship fall apart _again_."

"I don't know how to face him Ben." Sammy admits, equally frustrated. "All of this, how he feels, how I feel, it's too complicated. I don't want to make things any worse than they already are."

"So you're just done being friends with Troy, that's cool," Ben crosses his arms, one of his legs bouncing. "That's so fucking high school, Sammy. Just because you have a crush on him you're going to avoid him forever?"

Sammy glares at him. "I didn't say that. Don't put words in my mouth Ben. I don't mean forever just. For a little while."

"Don't put words in your mouth? Well, you're not using your _own_ words to talk to him," Ben says, his leg bouncing a little more frantically. "I can't _stand_ the two of you not talking to each other. First I lost Emily, and then I lost Troy and then I lost Emily _again_ , and then I lost _you_ and now I'm losing Troy again-- I just want everyone I love to be in the same place."

"Go hang out with Troy and Emily then. I'll be fine here on my own for a couple hours." Sammy sighs, picking up his book. "I'm not trying to keep you from Troy. I didn't ask you do babysit me 24/7 Ben. You can go have fun with your friend and girlfriend. It's fine. I just can't right now. It's too complicated."

"Why? Why is it so complicated? Just _talk_ to me, man," Ben begs, looking close to tears. "It seems pretty simple to me. He has a crush on you, you have a crush on him, but you're not going to do anything about it right now because you're in recovery and he just broke up with his wife. I'm not leaving you no matter how grouchy you get, so just talk to me."

"I'm not going to do anything ever," Sammy amends. He holds his book up to hide his face like a shield to try to block some of his shame but he can't leave Ben hanging like that. Not when he can hear the tears in his friend's voice. "Look the problem... the problem is that I shouldn't have a crush on him at all. It wasn't such a big deal when I thought he was straight, or even after I knew he was bi and he was still married because he was _married_ and it was fine and safe, but now it isn't. These feelings aren't safe anymore and it's just. It's too big a betrayal of Jack

Ben's shoulders sag. He can't even argue with that, not when _he's_ been the one pushing so hard to get Jack back home. They can be reasonably certain that he's still alive, since Debbie has mentioned him and it's been proven through her and others that thing can survive in the void, so if there's a chance that Jack could come home someday and he and Sammy could resume their relationship... it's no shit he wouldn't want to start anything with Troy in the meantime. 

"I get it," he says softly. "I never could have dated or even just hooked up with someone else while Emily was gone. Only having eyes for Jack is okay, man." He reaches out to put his hand on Sammy's knee. "But avoiding one of your best friends in the world when you needs friends around you now more than ever _isn't_ okay. You've gotta talk to him, dude."

"I will. Eventually. When I'm doing better," Sammy says, though what exactly he means by better is anyone's guess. He isn't entirely sure himself, he just hopes it will be enough for Ben to let go of this argument for right now. "But really, you can't let me stop you from living your life man. I can't keep you prisoner in your own apartment. Go out with Emily, hang out with Troy and Ron and whoever else you want to. You can even text me every ten minutes if it'll make you feel better about leaving me alone for a night. I promise I'll text back."

"I can't live my life without you," Ben says, his voice so soft and earnest that it breaks Sammy's heart.

Sammy exhales slowly and sets his book aside. Hands now free he reaches for the hand Ben had placed on his knee, grasping his wrist and gently pulls his friend forward against his chest so he can wrap his arms around him in a tight hug. A year ago, hell a few _months_ ago he might have hesitated before initiating this kind of open display of affection even with Ben. But since his trip to the doorstep he's found it a lot easier to give and accept this kind of physical comfort. At least with Ben.

"And I can't live my life without you buddy. I'm sorry I'm making this so hard for you," He says into Ben's mess of curls.

Ben hides his face in Sammy's shoulder and cries, and Sammy's heart breaks into another little piece. How he ever could have considered leaving this boy behind and just assume he would be okay is beyond him. So many things have hurt Ben Arnold, and he hates himself for almost letting one of them be him. 

Honestly, Ben would have let that be it. He wants to wait for Sammy to be ready to talk to Troy-- and he does wait. For a while. Weeks pass, and then months. Troy is enstated as sheriff, and they still aren't talking. Sammy starts to consider coming back to work, and they still aren't talking. It's approaching December and they _still aren't talking._

Ben isn't the sort to sit around and wait for stuff to happen. He didn't do it with Emily, he isn't doing it with Jack, and he won't do it with Troy and Sammy, either. He gave Sammy his space, but the man has proven one thing at this point: he will wait for things indefinitely. He waited for Jack for so long it almost killed him, and Ben isn't about to let him repeat the mistake. 

He needs Ron's help to pull this off-- and a whole lot of good timing. The lake hasn't quite frozen over yet, but it's cold enough that nobody's going to want to get in the water. He counts on Ron to get ahold of Troy, which he does swimmingly. He doesn't even need to do anything convoluted, he just asks Troy to join him for a little night fishing on the lake, and Troy readily agrees. He's already in the boat when Ben is marching Sammy up the dock towards Ron. 

"No, I promise, it'll only take a minute," he says, keeping Sammy's eyes on him as they head down towards the boat. "I just need a few pictures of Kingsie and then we can be on our way and you'll be back in your cozy bath robe in no time."

"Ben, why is Troy in the boat?" Sammy asks flatly. 

"Well hey there, Sammy--" Troy gets out nervously, but then he has to scramble forward to catch the other man as he's practically thrown off the end of the dock when Ron scruffs him by the back of the neck and pushes. Ron's foot comes down on the end of the boat and with a shove, the canoe wobbles and drifts out towards the middle of the lake with the two men trapped inside. 

"Talk about your feelings and I'll come tow you back to the dock!" Ron shouts across the water, and Troy and Sammy watch him and Ben high five before heading back towards Ron's nice, warm boathouse. 

"BENJAMIN NOAH ARNOLD!" Sammy shouts back at the pair but it's clear it isn't going to do any good. Ben waves again and closes the door to the boathouse, leaving Sammy and Troy out in the cold, trapped on the boat. 

With a great deal of wiggling and maneuvering to get himself out of Troy's lap, Sammy turns around, wrapping his arms around his chest and glances over the side of the little rowboat into the water. It looks deep, Ron really gave them a good kick when he pushed them out and they're already well out onto the lake, and cold. "Probably not a great idea to try to swim back to shore, huh?" He asks Troy, only half joking.

"Probably not," Troy confirms, looking plenty warm all bundled up in a big coat with a scarf, hat and mittens-- the latter of three Sammy did not put on because he thought they were going to be out here for a few minutes, tops. Lousy no good lying best friend. "Hypothermia ain't no laughin' matter."

"Neither is luring people out onto lakes under false pretenses. Pretty sure that's the plot of several horror movies," He quips. "Stupid little-- _Ben_. See if I make him breakfast tomorrow."

Troy takes off his gloves and holds them out to Sammy expectantly. "This boat don't got a motor, and I already checked for oars. Figured Ron would be bringin' em our way when he joined me. How're they gonna know when we talked stuff out if they're gonna hide in that toasty boathouse with their TV and their cocoa and their space heater?"

"Probably spying on us through the window. Waiting for us to cry and hug it out or something." Sammy grumbles. He isn't too proud to accept the gloves, not when it's this cold out, and quickly pulls them on. 

"So....how have you been?" He asks awkwardly.

"Oh, you know..." Troy shrugs lamely, tucking his hands in his sherpa pockets. He sighs, his shoulders slumping. "Well, I filed for divorce. It's goin' pretty smooth actually, Loretta ain't really fightin' me on anything. She didn't want the house, she's movin' back to the east coast to be with family, and we were able to separate everything in the house nice and easy without the court needin' to get involved. It's... actually kinda awful sad." 

Troy sounds miserable as he looks down at his boots. "She's been a li'l prickly here and there, but for the most part she's just been all kinds of resigned. I can't help but feel like I'm the one who broke our marriage on account of... admitting to her what I did. It didn't feel right to lie to her, but-- shoot, I dunno."

Sammy's anger at Ben melts away in the face of Troy's sadness and he reaches out to put a hand on his friend's shoulder, giving him a comforting squeeze. "It's not your fault Troy. You didn't do anything but try to be a loving, devoted husband. To a fault. To your own detriment. You gave up everything for her, your happiness, your friends. And she manipulated you and lied to you and used your goodness against you."

"But I _was_ emotionally unfaithful to her," Troy sighs, turning his head to look down at his own reflection in the water. "Sometimes I wonder if it was my mama goin' through husbands as often as she did that grew me up with bad ideas of what love and marriage look like. But then sometimes I think it's just me who's messed up. I've chased off two wives now because I couldn't keep my dang self in check."

"She was making you miserable Troy. No one can blame you for not being happy with her and wanting to find happiness somewhere else," Sammy says, letting his hand fall away. He tries to keep his words and tone detached, as if it isn't him that they're talking about here. "You never did anything about it. Like you said, you kept your hands to yourself and stayed by her side. That kind of self control takes real strength and dedication. You didn't even come close to the mistakes you made in your first marriage, you had every right to maintain that you'd grown and changed as a man and as a husband because you _did_."

"They say the heart wants what it wants, but the heart can be a real jerk sometimes, Sammy," Troy says, his voice wavering slightly and he sniffs loudly. "But enough about me, dang it, I've been over here havin' normal-ass marriage problems while you've been fixing to throw yourself into the void all this time. I was tryin' to fix your curtains while you were plottin' your dang _suicide_. I don't even know how to follow that up. I'm sad, I'm scared for you, I miss you... I don't even know what to say."

“If it helps, I’m not there anymore. I’m not going to be going back to Perdition any time soon.” Sammy offers him a shaky smile, trying to be reassuring as best he can be right now. “I realized, when the void wouldn’t take me, and then when the ufo was chasing me that night, how stupid I had been. I was such an idiot for wanting to leave all of you, for thinking that somehow that would make things better.”

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I can’t say it isn’t still hard and I don’t still have bad days. I do. More bad than good. I still feel like half of me is missing, like some of my soul is in that void. But I’m not going after it. And I miss you too Troy. I really really do. I just don’t really know what to say either. To you.”

"You mean about the whole... thing that happened in your apartment?" Troy says, scuffing his boots on the bottom of the boat. "Yeah, I don't rightly know what to say, neither. Except that... I think you and I _both_ know it ain't nothin'. No matter what my feelings are, no matter what yours are, it ain't nothin', and it ain't gonna be nothin'. You got a man all your own, and we're gonna drag him back outta the void one way or another, and the two of you are gonna be happy together, dadgummit, or my name ain't _Sherriff_ Troy Krieghauser."

"I-I wish I could believe that Troy." Sammy says. It's his turn for his voice to waver as he blinks back tears. "Fuck I want to believe that more than anything. But trying to get him out of the void is going to be dangerous and I can't ask anyone to put themselves in danger for me or Jack. And at the same time I can't let go while I know he's still out there. I can't do that to him."

Troy's heart breaks when he hears Sammy close to tears, and he takes his hand out of his pocket to reach out and grab him by the shoulder. "It's gonna be alright. We're gonna get him back no matter what, and you and I... we don't gotta be nothin' but friends, okay? Just cause I ruined my marriage by catchin' feelings for someone else don't mean you gotta."

"I'm sorry Troy. And thank you." Sammy says softly, swallowing back the tears to smile at his friend. "I do love you man, and I miss hanging out with you. I need to have my friends back."

"I love you too," Troy says. There's a bittersweetness in his voice as he says it, because they both know exactly what he means. He _does_ love Sammy-- he loves him in a way that Sammy almost loves him back, but knowing they can't actually do anything about it hurts them both. Sammy is desperate for comfort and Troy so desperately wants to give it to him-- but it's disrespectful to Jack and to the promise that they'll bring him home to even think about it. 

He reaches forward to grab Sammy by the shoulders and tugs him forward. The canoe wobbles slightly, but they don't topple over (thank god) as Troy pulls Sammy into a tight hug.

Sammy wraps his arms around Troy just as tight, closing his eyes and for a moment letting himself just enjoy the comfort and warmth of his friend without the complication and guilt of his tumultuous feelings. This, right here, can be enough for now if he lets it. More than enough because at least he'll have Troy back in his life again. 

"Now let's just hope they actually see us and come to tow us back to shore." He mutters against Troy's shoulder.

"Start cryin', it'll really sell the image," Troy murmurs, mostly a joke, but Sammy's eyes are wet anyway. Troy rests his face against Sammy's shoulder, relishing in the warmth and comfort his friend radiates, and banishes any thoughts right out of his head that tries to encourage him to chase this feeling because isn't it so nice. Troy has never been a selfish man, and he's not about to start being one now.

"You cry, I've been doing that so much lately I'm fresh out." Sammy chuckles, a little of his old sassy self coming back to him. He gives Troy one more squeeze before letting go and pulling back, not wanting to get too comfortable in his embrace.

"Man, don't even suggest it or I will. I missed you so much, buddy," Troy says, his still-beating heart just breaking to pieces in his chest. He might have undersold the matter somewhat when he admitted to having a "crush" on Sammy, but it doesn't matter. His feelings towards a man who's spoken-for don't matter. He might be the worst husband when it comes to keeping his eyes and hands forward, but he absolutely will not drag another man down with him. 

Sammy might have wanted to throw Ben into the lake when he pulled this stunt, and he lets him know in no uncertain terms on the ride home that Ben will be facing retaliation later on when he least expects it, but he can't help but be grateful to the younger man for going out on a limb and strong-arming him into making up with his best friend. 

And though a part of him aches for Troy in a very significant way, he also appreciates Troy for understanding that he simply can't in good conscience pursue anything with anyone else. His heart is absolutely set on Jack, and even if in the process of trying to find him and bring him home they discover that Jack is lost permanently, dead or worse, he doubts he'll ever be able to love anyone else again in the same way. 


	14. Chapter 14

There was a running joke among the KFAM for a while that getting Emily back was "the hardest thing any of us would ever do, including dying" but it paled in comparison to what it took for them to bring Jack home. 

That first moment that Jack and Sammy locked eyes when he set foot back in their world would carry Sammy with his feet off the ground for the rest of his god-given life. 

The adjustment period is rough. Jack is in bad, bad shape for a while. He still has his memories, thank god-- of everything leading up to the void. Most of his memories of his time in the other world are fuzzy at best, completely absent at worst. It wouldn't be so bad that he'd forgotten everything, except for the fact that it comes back to him in his sleep. He wakes up screaming, crying, it takes Sammy more than an hour sometimes to calm him back down. It helps when Lily comes out of her room at the sound of his screams, he always calms down much faster when he has both of them there. 

He takes a little bit longer to warm up to Ben and Emily, especially Emily. There's something about him that makes him instinctively uncomfortable and afraid for the first few months. Old conditioning from the void, if any of them had to wager a guess, because Jack can never put into words what it is about her that makes him so scared. 

Jack warms up to Troy almost immediately. He finds the sherriff's presence comforting and safe, and is the only person outside their immediate little family including Ben, Emily, Lily, Sammy and Katie that he actively seeks out to spend any time with. 

In almost ten months, he's yet to part from Sammy's side for more than an hour at a time. They can't stand to be apart, but it's slowly getting easier, the more they get used to the fact that Jack is back. Jack might have permanently black eyes, and his body might be emaciated and covered in charcoal scars shaped like pine tree branches, but he's still Sammy's Jack. He'd still be Sammy's Jack even if he didn't remember him, even if he came back without sight or hearing, even if he came back a vegetable he'd still be Sammy's Jack. 

Obviously, Sammy can’t take the whole ten months off from work, and when he goes back he takes Jack with him. He spends most of the night on the couch in Sammy and Ben’s office, drifting off to the sounds of their voices coming in through the radio and making periodic check ins to bring them coffee and squeeze Sammy’s hand. Some nights he doesn’t sleep, just closes his eyes and listens, laughing a little at the callers and drifting at the edges of consciousness until its time to go home and they can get some sleep together. It’s an odd system but it works for them. Sometimes he even comes and sits in with them in the recording booth to talk to the callers. Those are some of Sammy’s happiest nights. 

Everything about his life is as close to perfect as it can get right now. Jack’s recovery is slow, the doctors say there are some things that he might never totally recover from but he’s making progress and he’s back. Sammy’s heart and soul are whole again. Ben's apartment is cramped as hell with four adults living there full time, and two of them having partners who spend more of their time there than not in a tiny two-bedroom but its full of people he loves so he can’t mind that much. He has a job he loves working with his best friend in a town he loves. A weird little town but one that is slowly starting to recover too.

It’s almost perfect. There’s just one problem. In the six years Jack had been gone, there had been certain things Sammy had lost interest in. To put it mildly, his libido had shriveled up and died in the void right along with Jack. Probably a side effect of his overwhelming depression, but for nearly six years he’d had barely even a passing interest in sex, had masturbated less than a handful of times in all those years. Now that Jack is back, well, his sex drive has come back full force.

Which is a problem in an apartment with six people, two bedrooms, and a bathroom door that doesn’t lock, _thank you very much Ben Arnold_. Jack isn’t recovered enough for sex, physically or emotionally even after ten months and Sammy, well Sammy is in horny hell.

He never approaches Jack with the subject-- what could he even say? I know you're still tormented with nightmares and daymares and every other kind of _mares_ in between, I know you're tortured by visions that keep you awake for days and you have trouble eating and other basic self care, but could you put out? The idea is absurd. 

Sammy would just take care of it in the shower like a normal man, but his roommates don't have any fucking _boundaries_ and will come in to pee, brush their teeth or sometimes just to _chit chat_ while he's standing behind a thin curtain with his dick in his hand-- which _does_ take care of his morning wood, at least, but never exactly in the way he'd prefer. 

Honestly, even if Jack never again feels up for having an active sex life with Sammy, Sammy would still be happy. He loves Jack for who he is, not for the sex, and having Jack present even if they never have sex again as long as they live is still better than being without him. That's what Sammy's brain says, anyway. Sammy's dick has Different Opinions.

It also doesn’t help that his roommates are noisy. Emily and Ben have a very active, healthy, vocal sex life with only a thin wall between their room and Sammy and Jack’s. Lily and Katie aren’t quite so vocal but they’re in the _living room_. As much as Sammy has tried to be better about picking up cues that he is not wanted, things happen and it’s saying something that even that has started to turn him on a little. 

And he says as much, finally. It’s about four in the morning and Jack hasn’t come into the sound booth in about two hours so Sammy can safely assume he’s fallen asleep and won’t be hearing any of this, making it safe to vent his frustrations to the entire listening audience and Ben. It’s not as if their radio show has any boundaries anymore and, well, its no worse than anything Chet has said on air so he figures why not?

“It’s like being a teenager again Ben,” He groans. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve been this bad since I was thirteen. I think I’m dying. This might have been the Shadowmaker’s plan all along. Rather than drag me into the void, just kill me with pent up frustrations and blue balls.”

"Yeah, I _don't_ think that was his plan, dude!" Ben laughs, still red from ear to ear like he has been since the first second Sammy brought up the subject. "You should have said something earlier, we have pillows in our room and we could have been biting them this whole time! Why didn't you _tell_ us we were being so loud?"

"How did you not know?" Sammy asks, laughing a little at Ben's distress. "Dude did you really think the entire apartment, the apartment upstairs, and the apartments next door couldn't hear you two? You know how loud you are on air! I thought you were bragging!"

Ben laugh-groans, grabbing his hair. "I don't know! I thought the walls were thick enough-- jack in the box jesus, does that mean you heard our--"

"Snow white roleplay? Yeah, every word!" Sammy confirms, and Ben wails. 

"I have to pack up, leave the country, change my name. I'll be... Anjamin Barnold from now on. Fuck, I really didn't know you could hear everything. We'll be better from now on, I swear."

"You don't have to do that," Sammy teases. "It's kind of hot."

"Get! Get out! Out of my studio! Out of my apartment! Shut up! You listen on PURPOSE!?" Ben wails, grabbing an unused boom mic to hit Sammy with repeatedly. 

"I can't help it man! I'm not in control anymore. I haven't gotten off in over six years dude. Six years. And the need is back with a vengeance. I swear I wouldn't listen if I had a choice in the matter but my rational brain isn't driving the car right now," Sammy laughs, flinching away from Ben's assault with the mic. "I'm two days away from getting a hotel room for the night just for myself to have a little privacy."

"I take it Jack's not really... you know," Ben says, setting the mic back down. "I mean, I can't blame the dude, he's-- I mean, he's rough. Obviously, it's okay if he's not, you know... up to the task."

"No, he's not," Sammy sighs. "And that's fine! I still love him more than I can express in the four hour time slot we have on air and the wedding is still on some time in the future when we're up for planning it, that's all fine. I don't want to push him. I'm fine if he's never up to the task again. I just need to be able to handle things on my own at least but _there's no lock on our bathroom door._ "

Ben shrinks down in his seat with a laugh. "Well. I can see about getting the lock put back on the door. I bet Katie knows how to use a screwdriver, she seems the type." 

It was just meant to be some good-natured teasing and complaining. Sammy hadn't meant anything malicious by it, and anyone who knows him well could tell that. Archie calls in to commiserate the lack of action and Cynthia calls in to call him "diiiisgusting!" as usual, but otherwise the night moves on as usual. He wakes Jack up in the office and half-carries him to the car where he lets him doze in the back seat under his jacket until they get back home and wrap up together under the blankets on the bed. 

Come morning, Sammy has forgotten all of his complaints from the night before. He always does, when he wakes up to see Jack's face. In the case of this morning (or this afternoon, as the case may be, since they usually wake up around 4pm) he wakes up to Jack leaning out over him, closer than he's really been in some time. 

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," he murmurs, his voice crackly with sleepiness, and he leans down to give Sammy a kiss right on the mouth. They've done a lot of kissing since Jack came home, but rarely, if ever, mouth kisses. They'll kiss one another on the cheek, on their hands, shoulders, knuckles-- Sammy will kiss Jack's scars and Jack will kiss Sammy's freckles. But they don't kiss very often on the mouth, apart from the odd smooch on the way out the office door on the way to the recording studio. 

Kisses like _this_ definitely haven't been shared since before Jack went missing. His kiss is lingering, if a bit out of practice, and he pulls away to tuck a bit of dark hair behind his ear so he can smile down at Sammy. "You're blushing."

“I’m surprised. Happy, but surprised,” Sammy says breathlessly. Just that simple kiss is enough to get his going and he shifts a little to try to make his erection less obvious under the guise of turning more towards Jack.

"Good," Jack murmurs, and leans down for more. He opens his mouth against Sammy's in a way that's heartbreakingly familiar and he thinks absolutely, he can do this. He's been back almost a year, he doesn't have to fear touch anymore. Not to mention, if he survived the void, he can survive nookie with his own fiancé. Not that such a thing is something that needs to be survived.

He tilts his head into the kiss, spreading his palm against Sammy's chest, and he lets it slip lower, over Sammy's soft belly (not as soft as it used to be, Jack notes. the depression must have done a number on him) and down towards his groin.

It isn't that Jack is _afraid_ of sex, especially not with Sammy. He trusts his lover implicitly. He just gets overwhelmed by physical stimuli very easily, after spending as much time alone in the cold as he did. But if he's ever going to start recovering from that, there's no one he'd trust more to help than Sammy.

Sammy makes a little noise of surprise that very quickly turns into a pleased moan against Jack’s lips. He isn’t sure what’s brought this on, or if it’s even real. This could just be a very realistic dream and honestly he’d be okay with that, but he isn’t going to question it.

He closes his eyes and kisses back enthusiastically, opening his mouth to Jack without hesitation. It’s been so long but Jack tastes just the same as he always did. The morning breath isn’t great but Sammy isn’t going to complain, not right now. Not when Jack’s hand is sliding down body and it’s taking all his willpower not to buck up to hurry him onward, desperate for contact.

Jack gropes Sammy through his boxers, fighting down the scared little voices in him that say he's being touched too much. In the void whenever he was touched it was only to hurt him-- as evidenced by his scars. But he reminds himself that he's the one doing the touching right now, he's in charge.

The noises that Sammy is making warm his heart, so he's willing to fight down the old fears. He breaks the kiss to press a wet line of pink marks that will fade quickly down the side of Sammy's neck, wrapping his hand around his lover's dick through his boxers and stroking firmly. He's in charge, he reminds himself again. He's safe here.

“Fuck, _Jack_ ,” Sammy groans, already embarrassingly hard from even this little contact. He lifts his hands to hold Jack, stroking down his back just desperate to touch and feel him. 

“Not gonna last too long.” He admits, blushing even redder. He’s losing the battle to keep from thrusting into Jack’s hand, hips making stuttering little thrusts to try to get more, faster, because he really is like a teenager these days and it doesn’t take much to get him close to the edge.

"That's okay," Jack murmurs, leaning back in order to look down at Sammy. This isn't Sammy, the voices try yo tell him. This is a trick like usual, like always. He isn't in the void anymore. He's safe.

"Let me take care of you, Sammy," Jack murmurs. rolling over onto his side and tugging Sammy with him.

Sammy goes happily, rolling over onto Jack. He’s so much smaller than he remembers. Logically Sammy knew that, he’s held Jack plenty of times since he came back from the void. He’s carried him, cuddled him, but somehow it feels different being on top of him like this. The distinct lack of muscle is more apparent than ever. 

He doesn’t mind though, just holds himself up a little more as he kisses Jack again so he doesn’t completely crush him.

For a moment, everything is okay. Jack feels Sammy on top of him and soaks in the warmth that comes off of him like a sponge-- god, the warmth. Jack craves that warmth more than anything else, after coming out of the void, he _needs_ it. Sometimes feeling cold is all it takes to have him spiraling into a panic attack that takes ages to come down from. 

For a moment, all is well. The weight of Sammy is comforting. But that only lasts for a moment. One of the voices in his head overpowers his good sense for just a second, and that's all it takes. The dam breaks and the flood comes crashing down as memories remind him of the crushing weight that was put on his body from all sides at all times. He's reminded of the crushing little boxes his body was forced into, crammed down until his bones broke and his body splintered, and he can _feel_ it like it's happening to him right now. Agony shatters his body and all of a sudden the weight of Sammy becomes crushing instead of comforting. 

"Wait-- wait stop!" he gasps out, and Sammy's body goes cold like ice at the panic in his voice, his erection flagging all at once. He leans up off of him in a heartbeat and Jack scrambles to get up, get away from the source of his fear. His legs tangle in the sheets and he falls off the side of the bed, his breathing high-pitched and terrified as he kicks his legs to try and get the blankets off. 

"Hey, hey," Sammy helps to untangle them, but Jack is already inconsolable. 

"Sorry-- sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Jack sobs, sitting up with his back against the edge of the bed. He grinds his hands into his eyes, shaking from head to toe, his body burning like ice. "FUCK I'm so sorry I'm sorry--"

“Jack, babe, it’s okay,” Sammy says softly. He places a hand on Jack’s shoulder, not gripping, not holding him down or trying to pull him into a hug. He knows better than to try to restrain him right now but the touch is sometimes enough to remind him he’s here, in the real world with people and this is all real. That the void hasn’t come to take him again. “Breathe with me alright Jack? You’re going to be okay. I’m not going to let anyone or anything hurt you again.”

No matter how many times Sammy sees this it never fails to break his heart. Watching Jack panic, seeing his pain and fear and knowing he spent years fighting in that darkness alone and has to keep fighting even now that he’s safe and home make his heart ache. 

“I’m so sorry babe, I should have checked to make sure you were doing alright,” He says, reaching over to turn on the bedside lamp. There’s always at least one light on in their room but more helps sometimes.

Jack's breathing is errratic but he turns his face, wet with tears, to look up at Sammy. Wide black eyes take in his face, and he reaches up to cup his cheeks with both hands, feeling over the gaunt lines of his cheekbones and the prickle of his stubble. Sammy's real, he's real, he's _here_ with him. He isn't in the void. 

He breaks down again, his hands dropping to fist the blankets and he grinds his face into the side of the mattress, wheezing as he tries to hold back his sobs. 

"It's not fair," he gasps out. "I just want to be-- be here for you. You deserve it, but I just can't, I can't--"

Sammy frowns hard and covers Jack’s hands with his own. “You _are_ here, Jack. You’re here with me, we’re together. Jack, honey, breathe okay? Try to match me, in and out. Just slow down and then we can talk about this.” 

He starts taking slow even breaths, trying to mimic for Jack what he should be doing. He has no idea what ideas are floating around in Jack’s head right now but hyperventilating isn’t going to help. Jack breathes evenly with him, gripping his hands. It takes a few tries for him to get the breaths out smooth and without shaking, but watching Sammy's eyes helps. His heart slowly relaxes, no longer beating against his chest like a hammer, and the ice gradually leaves his body, replaced instead by ordinary cold-- the kind of cold that comes from tumbling out of bed. 

Carefully he crawls back into the bed beside Sammy and tugs the covers over them both, turning to hide his face in the pillows. "I'm so sorry," he mumbles, his voice muffled. "I thought... I thought I could do it. I wanted to try."

“What brought this on?” Sammy asks, brushing back a few strands of Jack’s hair. “You haven’t shown any interest in any of...that since you got back. We both knew physically it’s going to be a while before you’re up for anything like that. Why now, out of nowhere?”

"I heard you talking last night on the radio," Jack admits, his ears flushing, embarrassed. 

Sammy groans and turns his face into the pillows too. “I thought you were asleep. Fuck, Jack, you weren’t supposed to- I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad or guilt trip you. Did you hear the part about how much I love you and I’m completely fine not having sex?”

"I did," Jack says, turning his face back up to look at Sammy, his entire face bright red. "I _also_ heard the part where you're dying a slow, horny death."

“Yeah, well, that was for the town to hear. Not you,” Sammy murmurs, reaching out to brush his thumb across Jack's cheek. “It’s not your fault. I just had no interest while you were away. At all. I couldn’t muster the energy or desire. Now that you’re back that block is gone. It’s my problem to deal with not yours.”

"But _you're **my**_ problem to deal with," Jack teases with a light-hearted, if sad smile.

“That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me,” Sammy smiles.

Jack's smile fades a moment later and he reaches out to run his knuckles along Sammy's stubbly jaw. "I can't just sit here and watch you suffer, Sammy. Your needs are important."

He sits up slightly, propping himself on his elbow and he reaches down to run his hand through Sammy's hair, his expression turning thoughtful. "Do you remember back when we were doing the show-- that intern, Robin?"

He knows Sammy couldn't forget. Jack had gotten a terrible crush on the newest intern who had come to complete his apprenticeship in the radio station for his school program. He had sweet brown eyes and a dazzling smile, and Jack had felt so guilty for finding him as cute as he did-- until Sammy gave him his blessing. 

It didn't wind up working out. Robin wasn't looking for a serious relationship, and he lived a long, long ways away anyway-- he was only nearby for school. It wouldn't work out, even though there was chemistry. There was no love lost regardless-- and Jack appreciated Sammy for giving him the go-ahead to pursue another man while still understanding that he was faithful to him. 

“Yeah?” Sammy says, his tone questioning. It seems like an odd time to bring up Jack’s old flame but he isn’t going to question it. Maybe Jack is just remembering something he’d forgotten during his time in the void? “You want to call him or something? It’s been a while it might seem a little weird.”

Jack laughs. "Not for _me_.”

Sammy squints. “You want _me_ to call Robin?”

“Not Robin! Stupid,” Jack pushes Sammy over and climbs up to sit on his lap. Bracing his hands on Sammy’s chest he continues. “I mean for you to find your _own_ Robin. Isn’t there anyone in town you could turn to? Someone who could give you physical comfort.”

Instantly Sammy pictures Troy. Troy has always been there for him when he needs him, always been willing to offer a helping hand or a shoulder to lean on. Has always been a source of safety, security, and comfort since the day Sammy arrived in this town. 

But with Troy he wouldn’t want just something physical. And he’s not sure Troy would be willing to give it even if he did. There’s too much between them to be satisfied with just the simple act of physical release. It’d only serve to make things more complicated than they already are.

But Troy isn’t the only option in town. There’s other men around. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.” Sammy tells Jack with a half hearted shrug. “Now if you don’t get off my lap we’re going to have a problem.”

Jack bends down to give Sammy a soft kiss and then climbs off his lap to head to the kitchen so he can get started on breakfast. Sammy is consumed with guilt over giving Jack a panic attack to start his morning, confusion over the idea of being encouraged to go sleep with someone else, and worst of all, conflicted with a persistent half-chub through it all. His door may not have a lock on it, but at this point if someone comes in and catches him, it’s _their_ fault. 


	15. Chapter 15

“Well I’m just SAYIN’, Sammy! You know what they say about beggars and choosers!” 

Ben has slid down so far in his chair he’s practically under the table from trying to stifle his laughter, ever since Archie called in a few minutes ago to offer his “services” to Sammy. It’s Sammy’s fault, really, he’d been the one to casually mention to Ben on-air that he’d been given Jack’s blessing to find someone to hook up with and release a little tension. 

“I may not be a _spring chicken_ , but I’ve been around the block a time or two! Don’t knock a tussle with an old biddy until you’ve tried it. We’re surprisingly soft.”

"While I appreciate the offer Archie," Sammy says carefully, knowing how fragile Archie's ego is and how important his advertising money is to the station, "I honestly think you might be too much for me. You're an honest to god werewolf hunter Archie, that's a little too dangerous for my blood. But again, I appreciate you calling in and putting yourself out there. We'll talk soon alright?" 

He should have known better than to bring this up on air. He'd kept it quiet for a week after Jack proposed the option, shoving it to the back of his mind for the most part. While he knew there were technically options around King Falls Sammy had never been the sort to put himself out there and there weren't many people he could think of that he would consider in any case. But Ben had asked how things were going and he had answered honestly, like an idiot, before he could think to stop himself. Cuing the call in from Archie.

“Well... you might have a point there, manbun,” Archie croons. “I _am_ a bit of an expensive date for you, too. Considering I’m keeping the lights on half the time for you down there in your little radio station.”

“Dude I’m gonna die,” Ben wheezes. 

“Don’t you make fun of me, Ben Arnold! Sheesh, can’t a man call in and make a serious offer? Anywhoodle... if you reconsider my offer, you know where to find me, Sammy!”

"I have your number Archie, its in all your ads. And I promise, if things get bad enough, I’ll give you another thought. Have a good night." Sammy says before dropping the call. He lets out a sigh that's half a laugh. "Alright folks, just so you know I'm not taking applications or anything. There's no need to call in and...offer your services."

“Are you sure? Because I think that could make a _hilarious_ new segment,” Ben says, sitting back upright in his chair. “Line up, gentlemen! Take a crack at the Sammy piñata! He’s bound to say yes to one of you!”

"Do you want me to quit the show again? Because I will. I'll email Merv right now." Sammy says, looking Ben straight in the eyes and trying very hard not to crack a smile.

“Hey, I can’t help what the callers want to talk about,” Ben holds his hands up with a grin from ear to ear. “Speaking of, the lines are all lit up! Line four, you’re live with Sammy and Ben--”

“Did I hear that _Sammy Stevens_ is taking applications to f--”

“ _Absolutely_ not,” Sammy hangs up on Jacob Williams before he even has a chance to finish his thought. 

“Sammy!” Ben laughs. “Was that technical difficulties?”

"Wrong button, thought it was the bleeper." Sammy shrugs.

“An honest mistake,” Ben nods solemnly. 

The next few lines, blessedly are people calling in for reasons _other_ than to request a throw down with Sammy. Doyle calls in to tell them about the latest apparition haunting his refrigerator, and Finn calls to tell them that he’s finally bit the bullet and adopted a dog to ride the roads with him. Just when Sammy thinks they’ve cleared the subject for the night, he picks up line 8 and Dwayne Libbydale’s voice comes through the line. 

“Hey guys, it’s Dwayne. I know you said you weren’t taking applications, Sammy, but just in case that was reverse psychology, Kirk and I talked it over and we’d be glad to have you over for a little, you know. Company and conversation.”

Ben gives Sammy an appraising look. It’s the least repulsive offer so far.

Sammy looks back at him and there's a glint in his eye that could almost be called evil. Certainly mischievous. The curl of his lip as he leans in towards the microphone is nothing short of roguish, absolutely full of trouble, and Ben knows whatever he's planning it isn't going to be good.

Sammy's weird little feud with Dwayne hasn't faded any since Jack got back. Sure it had initially started because of some misplaced jealousy, everyone getting excited for Dwayne's wedding while Sammy was missing his own fiance. But Jack being home had done nothing to clear the air between them, probably because of the revelation that the farm boy was their local masked vigilante. 

Which is exactly what inspires Sammy to say, "You know Dwayne, that sounds great. And I would love to take you up on that but, unfortunately, I'm actually really holding out hope of hearing from The Dark. He's who I've set my eye on."

"Did... you just say _The_ Dark?" Dwayne says, his voice soft and almost reverent. 

"I think he actually did. I think he used the _The_ ," Ben gasps dramatically. 

"You know... I wouldn't be surprised if The Dark gives you a call later," Dwayne says. "Just cause-- you know. He might be listening to the show in between his rounds. Not that I know-- just a hunch."

"Mhmm," Sammy grins, "Well if Dark wants to give me a call, he knows where to reach me. I always did like a man in leather."

"The. You missed the The that time." Dwayne corrects him, almost disappointed. 

Sammy's eye roll is almost audible, "You get _one_ Dwayne. I gave it to you the first time, every time after that I'll start billing you."

"Who-- me? I don't care! But he seems like he does, that's all. Anyway-- Kirk's calling me, I should go. Later!" 

The line goes dead and Ben bursts out laughing. "Dear god! What are you gonna do if the Dark actually does call you?! Do _not_ tell me you're gonna hook up with _The Dark!"_

"Not if he insists on wearing the mask the whole time," Sammy retorts, completely straight faced.

"The Dark, I'm _begging_ you to call in," Ben says, leaning in close to the mic. "For the love of god, I will _pay_ you-- oh look! Line six just lit up! Line six, if this is the Dark--"

"No it's not the damn dark," Ron's voice gruffs through the line. "I've been listening all night to these fellas call in, and don't get me wrong, I think a lot of the gentlemen in this town are fine, upstanding citizens, but none of them have even close to what Sammy needs on offer. No offense intended, but Sammy seems like the type who needs a firm hand."

Ben actually blushes at that, and he clears his throat, grinning broadly. "And you're offering that firm hand?"

"Damn right I am," Ron grunts.

"I-um-" Sammy's face is bright red and he finds his mouth inexplicably dry all of a sudden. "That's... quite the offer Ron," he manages, his voice a little raspy and lower than usual. 

It isn't an outright refusal like he's given the other callers. It's hard to outright refuse Ron. He's not called a man's man's man for nothing after all. And Sammy can't honestly say he's never thought about it before.

"Offer's on the table, Sammy," Ron says, sounding just a little smug over how much he's flustered the other man. "I know how to treat a fella right. If you ever want to swing by the lake, you know exactly where to find me."

"Not that I'm a gossip, but I've heard Ron's legendary in... that department," Ben says, giving Sammy a smug grin. "You might not get a better offer."

"Shit, Ron, I'll have to think about it." Sammy says, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. He's blushing like crazy and is starting to feel a little like a high schooler before his first date to a school dance. "I appreciate you calling in and offering though. I mean, that's really nice of you Ron to reach out like this."

"I thought _someone_ wasn't looking for applications," Ben can't help but tease.

Sammy kicks him under the table. "Have a nice night Ron, it's always great to hear from you. Really."

"Great hearing your voice too, Sammy," Ron says before hanging up. 

"Damn!" Ben crows. "I mean _damn!_ Honestly, I expected this to happen a lot sooner. This could be the hookup of the century-- does anyone know how to soundproof a lake?"

"We aren't going to hook up on the lake Ben! If it were to happen, which I'm not saying it will, I expect we would be inside where there are walls to dull the noise. We aren't rowing out into the middle of the lake to do it in a boat," Sammy laughs.

"Well why not! It might be your only chance! Don't you want to experience the raw terror of nearly being bucked off the edge of a boat into frigid October lakewater?" Ben laughs. 

"Just pick another line, would you!" Sammy throws a pencil at Ben. 

"Line five, you're on," Ben grins. 

"Well hey fellas," Troy's voice comes on the line and Ben's entire demeanor suddenly shifts. If Troy's following the trend of people calling in to offer themselves on a platter to Sammy... well, that has an entirely new set of implications. He sends a glance Sammy's way that's one part hopeful and one part worried.

For Sammy's part its like a bucket of cold water has suddenly been thrown over him. He sombers up quickly, staring down at the phone line almost completely still in his seat except for his fingers tapping nervously at the top of the desk. 

"Hey Troy. Sorry, Sheriff Krieghauser. Never gets old saying that." Sammy says with an air of forced casualness. "What can we do for you tonight?"

"Well, I've been listening," Troy says. "And I can't help but notice you seem to be gettin' a mite frustrated. So I figured I'd offer to get breakfast and let you chew my ear for a while. Seems like you could use someone to vent to that _won't_ broadcast it to the whole town."

" _He_ brought it up on the air!" Ben protests.

"You _asked_ me how things were going!" Sammy counterprotests. "It just spilled out. Thank you Troy. I'll have to check in with Jack about breakfast, make sure he's alright with me being away an extra hour or two you know and I'll let you know?"

"Ten four, good buddy. You just lemme know and we'll make it a date. I'll be waitin' for your call," Troy says, and then short and sweet, hangs up just as quick as he came. 

There's a moment of dead air as Ben turns his head towards Sammy. "Don't say a word," Sammy says, but it doesn't stop Ben. 

"He said date," Ben grins.

"He didn't mean it like that and you know it." Sammy glares daggers at Ben. "Let's just drop it."

"What if he did!" Ben shoots back. "He said he's been listening all night. That means he heard about your... special problem. What if he's offering in a more gentlemanly way? You know how he is. Considering the history between you two..."

"Ben!" Sammy snaps and its his serious voice now, his 'This isn't something I'm going to talk about so if you push there will be consequences' voice. "Drop it. Please."

Ben shrinks down in his seat, his smile dropping. "Uh-- yeah. Sorry. Commercial." 

Luckily the callers seem to sense the shift in mood as well, because Sammy doesn't get any other offers that night. They do their nightly interview and get through a few more calls that luckily have nothing to do with Sammy's sex life, and he makes it to the 6:00 hour unscathed. Ben has been a little jumpy since Sammy snapped at him, but he knows Sammy will apologize to him later. He always does. 

When Sammy heads into his office to collect Jack, the other man is already awake and waiting for him, sitting upright on the sofa. Before Sammy can even open his mouth to say hello, Jack asks, "You and Troy have history?"

"No!" Sammy says quickly. A little too quickly maybe. He looks nervous though he knows he doesn't really have a reason to be. He didn't do anything wrong but that old guilt bubbles up to the surface again and a little part of him wants to kill Ben for bring this up at all. With a sigh he drops onto the sofa next to Jack. "I mean, not really. Nothing ever happened. But...Troy and I had some...complicated stuff while you were gone. Did I ever tell you about his wife? And what a bitch she was?"

Jack shakes his head. "I didn't even know he was married. What happened between you two?"

"Well, Troy's wife treated him like shit and I did my best to convince him he shouldn't be treated like that. She hated me, thought I was trying to break up their marriage. I wasn't but," He shrugs. "In the end I kind of did because Troy had developed feelings for me over the years I guess. And I had... developed feelings for him. Started as just a little crush, he's handsome and heroic and who doesn't like a man in uniform?"

Sammy gives a nervous little laugh. He reaches over to take Jack's hands. "Nothing happened though. I drunkenly kissed him once and then we both agreed nothing was going to ever come of it because I have you, even if you were gone my heart was with you."

"That's very romantic of you," Jack smiles, untethering his hands from Sammy's so he can reach up to cup his face instead. "If you have a history with him that makes him your Robin, doesn't it? So why are you so nervous?"

"You suggested this as just a physical release right? A way to get what I need. I don't think it could be that with Troy. Not just that," Sammy admits, leaning his cheek into Jack's touch. "For either of us. It wouldn't be fair to ask him for that."

Jack laughs. "Baby, I was gonna _date_ Robin, don't you remember? If it's more than just a hook up with him, then it's more. I'm not afraid of you running away from me, not after you waited and fought for me for so many years."

"Never," Sammy assures him. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Troy before. It didn't seem right to pile that onto you when you have so much else going on right now to focus on."

"Well, I know now," Jack says, and he reaches into Sammy's jacket pocket, plucking out his keys. "You get that handsome sheriff to come pick you up, because you aren't getting these keys back. I'll carpool home with Ben, and if you try to come home tonight you _will_ be sleeping in the hall. Go home with him, Sammy."

"Hey, Jack come on." Sammy says, reaching to take his keys back. "First of all I don't know if Troy is still interested. And even if he is, he might not want to jump right into anything. He's a little old fashioned."

"You won't know until you try," Jack says, yanking the keys away out of Sammy's reach. "I mean it, Stevens," he says, his tone dropping into mock seriousness, and he braces his other hand on Sammy's chest to hold him back. " _Talk_ to him. If you have history, there's no way he isn't still interested. It's impossible to fall out of love with you."

Sammy flushes. "That's definitely not true, you're just a sap. But thanks. I love you Jack."

"I love you too," Jack leans in to smooch Sammy. "Now go get him before I do. He _is_ pretty cute..."

Sammy laughs and doesn't argue for once, just pulls out his phone to call Troy to come pick him up for breakfast. He watches protectively as Jack climbs into the passenger seat beside Ben and catches the kiss Jack blows his way, playfully shoving it inside his mouth much to Jack's fake shock, and as they pull out of the parking lot, he's consumed with mixed feelings. 

What if Troy is over him? It's been almost a year since Jack came back, and even longer before then since they agreed nothing would come of the old feelings they had for one another. Like throwing blankets over a birdcage to make the peeping inside stop, nothing really _changed_ between them, there were just things that never came to pass. 

When Troy's car pulls into the parking lot and Sammy's heart slams up into his mouth, he knows for sure at least that nothing has changed for _him_.

The ride down the mountain to Rose’s is quiet. Sammy finds himself too nervous to talk much and not knowing where to even start. Troy seems to take his lead until they reach the diner and are comfortably situated in their usual booth at the back, away from the rest of the early morning patrons.

"S'been a while since we hadda chance to catch up, buddy," Troy says as he balls up his straw wrapper and starts to play with it on the table top. "Jack's been takin' a lotta your time. That-- wasn't a complaint, or nothin'! Shoot, I'm happier than a fox in a henhouse that you two got each other again at long last, honest. I just miss ya, s'all."

“I’ve missed you too Troy.” Sammy says, cupping both hands around his coffee mug. It’s warm and grounding and for now he’s able to keep this light and normal to feel out exactly what Troy had wanted to talk about. “I know you didn’t mean anything, Jack’s still recovering and that keeps us both busy, but he’s getting better. Uphill fight and all, but it’s happening. But I have really missed you man. How have you been?”

"Honestly, never better," Troy says with the kind of joy in his voice that Sammy would sell his soul to hear forever. "Now that I'm makin' the big buckeroos as sheriff I've been putting my elbow grease into all them li'l projects around the house I was always too depressed to work on before. Got the basement all spick and span, fixed up the saggy parts of the porch, did a deep clean of the ventilation, stuff like that. Got my garden all nice and cleaned up too so I can finally start growin' again. I've put some real thought into adopting a dog to keep me company, since that big ol' house gets a bit creaky and lonesome day in and out. What else..."

He flicks his straw wrapper at Sammy. "Oh, Loretta's baby boy just turned two. I know I don't talk about her much no more, but she and I are still facebook friends, and honest to god I think she's happier bein' a single mom than she ever was married to me. She moved back home to DC and I guess she works for the Trump Campaign now, which... as an officer of the law I ain't supposed to have opinions about politics, and that's all I gotta say about that."

Sammy laughs, beaming brightly at just how happy Troy is. He doesn’t flinch away from the wrapper, just lets it hit him and fall onto the table so he can flick it right back at sheriff.

“I’m happy for you Troy. That all sounds great, I’d love to come by and see everything you’ve done with the house it sounds like you’ve really put a lot of work into the place. I bet it looks amazing.” He says with a grin. “You should have everyone over, really show it off.”

"Yeah? I guess I could throw a dinner party or two. Considering how many guest rooms I got, y'all could even stay over the night," Troy says, flicking the wrapper right back at Sammy. "But what about you? You seem to be in a bind of the intimate variety. Got all sorts'a fellers barkin' up your tree. You sounded exhausted."

Sammy’s smile and laugh turns a little more shaky, and he blushes, dropping his eyes to the table. “Yeah you heard all that huh? Never realized I was such a catch and now look at me. King falls most eligible radio host.”

"Oh, who are you kiddin'? You were King Falls' most elligible bachelor ages ago," Troy says, sensing the awkward mood shift in Sammy, and mirroring it to the letter, fidgeting with the wrapper now. "I'm real glad Jack's all supportive of your... well... I'll be honest, I don't rightly understand what's goin' on with you two. I thought you two were all set to get married, is that-- has it been called off? I gotta hard time understanding your sitch-iation."

“No, no absolutely not. Jack and I are good, still engaged still in love.” Sammy assures him with another nervous laugh. “We just have an understanding I guess. We did even before he went into the void. That it’s okay for us to see other people because we know how solid we are. Neither of us has ever actually done it, it’s just never worked out, but we’ve talked it out before.”

Troy sits back, hitting the back of the cushion with a soft thump, his brow furrowed confused down over his eyes. "Huh," he says finally. "Ya'll just... know about that and are okay with it? How's that work? I-- maybe I only ever been with jealous types, but I can't even _imagine_."

“We know we love each other. That and trust are the foundation of the relationship, knowing the other isn’t going to run off just because they have another person in their life.” Sammy shrugs. “I love Jack. He doesn’t doubt that and I don’t doubt that he loves me. I can’t say neither of us will never get jealous but we’ll talk about it and work through it with that as the starting place.”

"Huh," Troy says again. "That's... wow. You fellas got just about the most functional relationship I think I ever heard of. And one of ya'll spent more than half a decade in the innermost circle of hell, so that's really sayin' something."

“Well you know, after that what else could really come between us right?” Sammy asks with a smile.

"Right," Troy licks his lips, looking down at the table. There's a long moment of silence then, as the two of them seem to be thinking the same thing. Troy lifts his mug for a sip of tea and Sammy rubs his thumbs around the rim of his cup as they both lose themselves in thought, until they both snap out of it in the last second. 

"Have--" Sammy starts. 

Just at the same time, Troy says, "Will--"

They both laugh, and Sammy shakes his head. "You first."

"Well," Troy blows out a long breath. "I was just thinkin', you know. It's been... a while. A long while. I wasn't never gonna get in the way of your feelings with Jack, and it ain't that I was just waitin' around biding my time until I could take my chance, but... way I see it, if Jack's given you his blessing, and you're lookin' for someone to... sport with..." 

He clears his throat, unable to look up at Sammy. "I guess it depends on if you still feel some type of way about me. It's been a minute."

“Jack in the box Jesus,” Sammy mutters. “Of _course_ I do Troy. I was worried _you_ didn’t still-- you’ve had a lot of time to get out here and find yourself somebody. But I do definitely still have feelings for you. That’s why I turned everyone else down.”

"Ain't nobody else in this town for me," Troy says, so earnestly it makes Sammy's throat clench up.

Sammy sighs and goes to run his hand through his hair only to get it caught in his bun in his nervous haste. “I just- the thing is with you I don’t know if I’d be satisfied with just sporting as you called it. Would you be?”

"Not a chance in hell," Troy says, looking up at Sammy with soft eyes. 

Sammy smiles back and lays his hand palm-up on the table for Troy to take. “And that’s an option. We could have that if you want, if you’re okay with me also being with Jack. That’s on the table.”

"I figure I'd be the biggest hypocrite in all the world if I wasn't," Troy says, his heart slamming up into his throat as he lowers his hand from his chin to take Sammy's, for the first time, in earnest. "But in all honesty, Jack's just about the sweetest fella I've ever met. I'd be god darned before I ever got in the way of a relationship as pure and wholesome and _hard-earned_ as ya'll's."

“You aren’t. I promise, you aren’t. If I wouldn’t let shadows and the void come between us, you certainly won’t. Jack wants this for me. He stole my fucking keys so I couldn’t come home without talking to you for Christ’s sake.” Sammy laughs, squeezing Troy’s hand.

"He _stole_ your keys?" Troy can't help but laugh. "Shoot... he's lookin' out for ya, I guess. What a guy." 

Breakfast is served shortly after and they make friendly smalltalk over their meal, talking about Jack's recovery, and more detail on Troy's repairs to his house, what kind of dog Troy might look to adopt and how long Sammy thinks it'll be until he and Jack are able to plan the wedding. And through it all, they scarcely release hands even once. It feels so nice to be able to hold hands that they don't want to let go. 

It's a fight for who gets to pay, but Troy only barely manages to win out after threatening to drive Sammy back home in the _back_ of his squad car. It's then that Sammy realizes he hasn't told Troy that Jack intended for him to go home _with_ Troy. He doesn't know how serious Jack's threat was to make Sammy sleep outside in the hallway-- and even if it was serious, there are a number of other people who live in Ben's apartment who would be able to let him in... but Jack's sentiment was for Sammy to be able to work some of this tension out. And he can't seem to stop looking at Troy's sinewy forearms as the tendons shift under his freckle-tanned skin while doing something as unsexy as paying for breakfast. 

“So, um, do you have to go back to the station? You on duty right now?” Sammy asks awkwardly as they get up to leave Rose’s. It’s been a long time since he’s done this kind of thing, tried to play the game to get an invite back to someone’s place and there’s no doubt he’s rusty.

"Nope, just got off before I swung by to pick you up," Troy says, and Sammy feels a flush rise to his cheeks at his particular choice of words.

“Great. And I’m in no rush to get home. Maybe we could go over to your place? You could show me some of the work you’ve been doing?” He mentally curses. It’s a lame excuse and they both know it but it’s the best he can come up with this early in the morning.

Troy's not stupid. He might sound it, but he isn't, and he knows Sammy knows that. He knows this is a parking-lot friendly way for him to ask for Troy to take him home so they can make good on the thing Sammy's been complaining about on the radio for over a week while Troy would lie awake at home listening to him, chewing the pillow and holding himself back from making the phone call to offer himself at Sammy's feet along with the rest of the hungry horde. 

Clearing his throat, Troy lowers himself down into the driver's seat as Sammy buckles his seatbelt. "I figure I can do that," he says, turning the engine over. "But I gotta make one thing loud and clear here before I even pull outta the lot just to make sure we're on the same page... are you askin' because you're actually interested in the color I pained my basement walls-- which is _white_ , by the way-- or are you askin' because you're lookin' to get rawed?"

It’s a good thing Sammy isn’t standing up because his knees would have gone weak enough to give out under him at that. As it is he just turns an alarming shade of red despite quite a bit of his blood suddenly rushing south.

“ _Fuck_ , Troy, you can’t just _say_ things like that,” He groans, dropping his head back against the seat. “Especially not when you know how desperate I’ve been."

"I'm not hearin' a yes," Troy presses. 

"Yeah," Sammy grits out. "Yeah that’s what I want.”

"10-4 good buddy," Troy is grinning from ear to ear as he pulls out of the parking lot and down the road. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is like 99% porn with a cute ass epilogue at the very end

There's a kind of static charge inside the car as they make the drive back to Troy's house. Sammy can barely breathe in passenger seat. Troy's particular choice of words has him shaking on the spot, one of his legs bouncing like Ben's does, his stomach full of fire and his face bright red. The idea of getting _"rawed"_ by Troy has his entire body ablaze the entire way home. 

He nearly jumps out of his skin when Troy speaks, cutting through the fog like a bullet. "When we get back to the house, I'm gonna need a few things outta you," he says without taking his eyes off the road-- and that's somehow even hotter than if he were looking straight at Sammy. "I ain't been with a fella since that time I told you about when I wasn't in my right mind, and I for sure ain't never been with a man _proper_ , so I'm gonna be fumblin' in the dark and I'll need your guiding hand to make sure I don't make any faux pas."

“Yeah that’s completely fine. It’s been a while for me anyway, as you know, so best to take things a little slow anyway,” Sammy says even if his body would disagree. “And if you decide you aren’t interested or there’s anything you just don’t want to do that’s also completely okay Troy, just say the word and we can stop and I can go home or whatever you want. Whatever you’re comfortable with alright?”

"I appreciate you sayin' so, but I don't think that'll be a problem," Troy says, his hands flexing on the wheel in a way that makes the leather creak, and the back of Sammy's neck tingle. "I've had more than enough time to do a li'l research on my own time. I ain't really experimented none... least, not with another livin' breathin' person-- but I've studied up for the final exam."

Unbidden Sammy’s mind fills with images of Troy, his hands on himself trying out the things he’s been reading about online. Maybe even thinking of Sammy as he does. His cheeks flare with heat and he shifts a little, trying to get comfortable and relieve some of the sudden tightness in his pants that the thoughts have brought on.

“Been thinking about this a little?” He asks, his voice husky.

"More than a little," Troy admits. "Havin' the house all to myself has given me some room to explore. I wasn't really one for havin' a very active intimate life before, part of me figured I didn't even want it none. But recently I'm startin' to think it had more to do with the company than my desire."

“I understand that. What kind of thing have you been exploring?” Sammy asks, eager to hear exactly what Troy has taken an interested in and what they might be getting up to.

"A little of this and that," Troy says vaguely, feeling warmth creep up under his collar as they round the corner and his house comes into view. As he pulls into the driveway he adds, "I'm partial to the _show don't tell_ mindset, myself." 

He pulls into the driveway and turns off the engine, climbing out of the driver's seat. Sammy watches the way he moves, his limbs all ropey and rangey as he comes around to open his door and helps him out of the car from where he'd been sitting in an excited, nervous stupor. 

Troy tugs him out of the car by his hand, and then doesn't let go of his hand all the way to the front door, where he unlocks it one-handed and then pulls Sammy inside after him. The door barely has a chance to close before Sammy's back is slammed up against the solid wood and Troy's mouth is on his. He really hadn't been kidding about the fact he'd been thinking about this.

Sammy groans and grabs Troy’s hips to yank him closer. He closes his eyes and sinks into the kiss, going boneless against the other man and opening his mouth to him. This is nothing like their last kiss which had been swift and barely more than a brush of lips. This is heated and deep and everything Sammy has dreamed of for years.

Troy isn't shy, either. For such a soft-spoken and gentlemanly fella, he seems to have forgotten all pretenses of manners or taking one's time, here. He shoves his glasses up into his hair so they don't get in the way and then digs his hands into Sammy's back pockets and yanks his hips up flush with his own, eating at his mouth hungrily. Sammy's has made passing notice of how large Troy's hands are, but they're another thing entirely when they're groping his ass in two firm hand-holds, his toes practically lifting off the hardwood floors as Troy tugs him bodily against him. 

There’s no hiding how turned on Sammy is and he wouldn’t bother trying if he could. It’s been so long since anyone has touched him like this he feels almost giddy with it, grinning broadly as he breaks the kiss to gasp for air before diving right back in. 

Troy is everywhere around him, boxing him in against the door, his long, lean frame is the only thing holding him up at this point-- and he briefly wonders just how much of him he could hold. Enough to take him right here against the door? Because if they don’t actually make it to the bedroom he isn’t sure he’d mind.

Troy breaks the kiss again to mouth down the line of Sammy's neck, thrilled by the feeling of his stubble against his tongue. The last time he'd been with a man in that alleyway, he'd been in the position Sammy was in now-- but he didn't intend for them to swap, not unless Sammy actually asks for them to. He's waited too patiently for too long to give up the opportunity to put his hands all over his buddy. His lover? Jack in the box jesus, are they lovers now? 

Not yet. But they will be. God, will they be. 

"Bedroom?" Troy asks without actually making a move to pull away from Sammy and lead him there, their hips glued together by Troy's huge hands on and around the shorter man's ass. His utility belt is digging into Sammy's hips and belly, but the fact that he has a taser, pepper spray and gun grinding up against him only makes Sammy feel all the weaker for him. 

“Fuck, yes,” Sammy gasps but also makes no move to go anymore except to tilt his head a little for Troy to continue kissing his neck. He hopes he leaves marks, even if no one but his band of roommates will see them he wants them to be able to look at them and remember this later.

It physically pains Troy to pull away now, but he manages it, just barely. He lowers Sammy back down to his feet and then drags him by the hand towards the closest guest room on the bottom floor. Not only could he not stand to take Sammy all the way up to his bedroom upstairs, he's not sure he's quite ready to have sex with someone else in the room he shared with Loretta for years. 

Casting her out of his mind, he practically throws Sammy backwards onto the guest bed, watching him bounce with a giddy expression all his own. He doesn't even bother shutting the door to the guest room, he just leaves it wide open as he starts to pull his belt apart. 

"Getcher pants off," he says, his voice a little more commanding than he really meant. His time spent as sheriff has taught him one thing: how to outdo Sammy's dad voice with _officer voice._

Sammy’s eyes go a little wide and his breath quickens just a little bit at the commanding tone in Troy’s voice. “Yes sir officer,” he replies with a little smirk. 

He kicks off his shoes but doesn’t go right for the pants. If Troy is going to bring out his cop voice in the bedroom than Sammy is going to do everything he can to deserve it even if every second he delays this is killing him. So instead he goes for his shirt first, tugging it off and tossing it away before taking his sweet time getting out of his jeans.

Troy's heavy utility belt hits the top of the dresser with a thunk so loud that it sends a shiver up Sammy's spine, and Troy starts popping the buttons of his own uniform shirt, revealing his thin white undershirt beneath. 

He stops with his shirt unbuttoned but still tucked in, open around the undershirt that accentuates the sinewy lines of his torso, and seems to get fed up with Sammy's stalling. He grabs him by the ankle and bodily yanks him down to the end of the bed where he undoes the button roughly and tugs down the zipper, leaning down to bite a suck a trail of kisses up from the center of Sammy's chest to his neck. He smells so damn good, masculine in a way Troy's never really gotten to experience, and he slides his hands down the back of Sammy's jeans to grope his ass through his underwear instead. 

“You’re killing me here Troy, jack in the box Jesus,” Sammy groans, running his hands down the other man’s back and feeling the solid muscle hidden by his shirt. Troy might look a little thin and wiry but there’s no doubt there’s plenty of muscle to him and Sammy is loving watching him put some of that hidden strength to work to toss him around.

"You just lemme know if I'm bein' too rough, alright?" Troy murmurs, his teeth finding Sammy's ear. "I'm feelin' just a li'l enthusiastic, but I don't wanna rush none and hurt you."

“Don’t worry, I like things a little rough,” He assures Troy, pulling back a bit so he can kiss his lover again.

"Good to hear it," Troy says, and then finally tugs Sammy's jeans down off his legs, right along with his underwear. All at once, Sammy finds himself totally naked beneath a completely clothed Troy, and the vulnerability of it-- not to mention with the door still hanging wide open --is enough to make him tremble beneath the younger man. 

Troy leans one knee on the bed, his tan slacks pulling tight over his groin and giving Sammy an eyeful of what he's packing south of the border as he takes a moment to just appraise the older man beneath him. He's pale, which is to be expected of a late-night radio jockey, with a ruddy permanent sort of flush in the center of his chest where his ash-blond chest hair is the thickest, speckled with charming black moles like an artist flicked a paint brush at him, with skinny ribs and a soft belly that betrays his sedentary lifestyle trying to compete with his rigid diet. 

His cock is standing at attention between his legs, arcing up over his belly in a way that catches and _keeps_ Troy's eye, the tip mushroomed and bright red, weeping into his own belly button. It looks _soft_ \-- incredibly soft, and Troy wraps his hand around it just to make sure-- and he's right. It _is_ damn soft. 

Sammy curses again, eyes closing and head tilting back. His hair has started to come loose from his famous bun from being tossed around and is falling is loose waves behind him as he struggles to keep still and not immediately buck up into Troy’s hand. 

“Just a little tighter, not too much, _fuck_ Troy perfect,” he moans when the other man complies, following his instructions to the the letter. If this is all they get to today that would be fine with Sammy. Troy’s hands are big and warm and strong around him and it’s been so long since anyone has touched him like this he’s almost surprised he didn’t lose it already. But when he opens his eyes and sees the almost hungry way Troy is looking at him he’s so glad he didn’t because that look promises so much more to come and he wants all of it.

Troy's baby blue eyes flick between Sammy's cock and his face every few seconds. He's never gotten a chance to explore like this with another person, and he's relishing in the opportunity now. Part of him is sad that it took him almost 30 years on god's green earth to get to this place, but he's not about to start moping about it now. The past is past, and he has Sammy Stevens' cock in his hand right this moment. 

That's not all he wants. The tendons in Troy's neck stand out a he swallows hard, completely overcome with the idea of getting his mouth on Sammy. He's seen it in his... research, and while he's always been a bit too shy for porn, he could stomach and squirm his way through 'instructional videos' which always seemed less corny to him. There was one video he would always come back to, walking the viewer through the basics of how to give good head, and he would suck his own thumb red-faced and daydreaming. 

He doesn't need to daydream anymore. Dropping to his knees at the side of the bed, he yanks Sammy farther to the edge and props his knee over his shoulder, pinning his thigh there with one hand as he guides Sammy's cock upright with the other, and fits his mouth right over the head. Immediately he's treated to the salty tang of Sammy's musk and precum, and his eyes flutter closed with a soft groan of appreciation. 

If Sammy were a believer he'd be singing the praises of whatever deity he could right now. He clamps down on the desire to thrust up into the warm, wet heat of Troy's mouth. It's hard, pleasure pooling low in his belly as the man slowly takes in more of him, but he doesn't want to overwhelm the other man. 

" _Fuck_ you're good at this," he grits out from between tightly clenched teeth. He buries his hands in Troy's soft blond hair to ground himself. "Little less teeth, _perfect_ , yes."

He keeps urging Troy on with a string of praises and expletives, while his tenuous self control starts to unravel under his touch. Every muscle in his body is held tight as pleasure sparks through him, to keep from taking more than he's given, but he can barely contain himself with each slow drag of Troy's tongue and lips against him.

Troy has all but lost himself to the sensations, and he's not the one with his dick in someone's mouth. Sammy's hands in his hair make his brain all fuzzy, and the stream of praises pouring out of his mouth make him flush with satisfaction. Just the feeling alone of a cock in his mouth is so much more satisfying than he anticipated-- the weight of it against his tongue, the way it drags against the roof of his mouth, the salty musk of his skin and the tang of the fluid that washes over his tongue with every other pass-- he finds himself exploring more than putting in a concerted effort to bring Sammy to release. 

His tongue massages against the head, his lips experimentally dragging down the sides, one of his hands joins the party by cupping and squeezing his balls, while the other keeps Sammy's thigh pinned firmly to his shoulder so Sammy doesn't twist right off the bed. 

Under his hand he can feel the muscles in Sammy's thigh jump and tighten in anticipation, trembling in pleasure and the struggle not to move and let this be over too quickly. For a beginner, Troy certainly seems to know what he's doing, even if his technique is a little raw and unpracticed its good-- and Sammy is right at the edge, holding on by barely a thread. 

"Troy," He gasps, tightening his hold on his hair as a warning, "Troy babe you gotta stop or- fuck I'm not going to last."

Troy's clear blue eyes open and look up at Sammy through strawberry lashes. There's a dark flush on his cheeks out to his ears that only darkens at Sammy's words-- being called babe has his stomach clenching. He acknowledges Sammy with his eyes, but doesn't make an effort to pull away. 

Instead, he presses Sammy's cock as far to the back of his mouth as he can. He hasn't ventured into throat territory, too afraid to gag and ruin the mood, and he does gag slightly when Sammy's cockhead touches the back of his throat, but it isn't nearly as bad as he thought it would be. Practicing with his own fingers seems to have done wonders. He can't quite get it down yet, but grinding the head of his cock against his soft palate is enough for now, swallowing thickly against him to encourage release.

Sammy curses again, eyes closing as that last shred of control he had comes untethered and his orgasm washes over him at last. His muscles tense and jump as he comes down Troy's throat, not bothering to try to restrain his voice as he finally finds the release he's been seeking for months. For a long moment that's all there is, his nerves alight with pleasure and his body tense as his orgasm unfurls through him. Then with a panting sigh he sags back on the bed, feeling a little boneless.

Troy relishes in the way it feels to have Sammy release down his throat. The satisfaction of having brought him to climax, the way it feels to swallow his seed, the sharp tang of it against his tongue-- it's everything he hoped it would be. Feeling Sammy's body clench up and shake under him, it's all he can do to pull away when he does, with half a mind to just suck him until he cries. 

Licking his lips, he clears his throat to get a bubble unstuck from it, and he smoothes his hands up Sammy's thighs and belly, grinning like a cat. "You want more?" he asks from his perch on the ground, and turns his head to kiss along the inside of Sammy's thigh.

Sammy lifts a hand to half-heartedly flip him off with a chuckle. "You've really got everyone fooled don't you Krieghauser? I always thought you were such a nice, clean cut young man." he laughs, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at the sheriff. He only manages to look faux serious for a minute before breaking into a big goofy smile again. "Yeah, yeah just give me a second to catch my breath."

"Uncalled for, Sammy," Troy says, grinning from ear to ear as he kneels up fully to crawl up onto the bed. Sammy can see the full, hard line of Troy's cock trapped in his pant leg like this and it's enough to make his own mouth water. "I ain't never told the public one way or another about my oral proclivities. I ain't a liar _nor_ a pretender."

"No, you just use that cute accent of yours to lure unsuspecting city boys like me into your bed. How was I supposed to know what I was in for?" Sammy pretends to huff in annoyance but the grin lighting up his face and the hungry look in his eyes as he looks Troy up and down tell another story. "You're a little overdressed you know."

"You think so? I was thinkin' about diggin' out a tie for the occasion," Troy says as he finally works his shirt out of his pants and tugs it off. Sammy's never actually seen Troy shirtless before in all the time he's known him-- and he thanks god for that, because as Troy peels off his undershirt, Sammy's mouth goes completely dry. 

It's no secret that Sammy has a thing for strapped gentlemen, Jack had been quite the well fit man back before the void emaciated him, and seeing Troy like this now has Sammy thanking the burger king of kings that he'd never seen Troy without his shirt on before this moment. His skin is a warm tan, the freckles that blanket his shoulders and face so thickly they almost look like a solid color continue onto his chest and belly, both of which are tight and sinewy with muscle. He isn't jacked like a weight lifter or chiseled like a body builder, but there is cordy muscle lining every inch of his long, limby torso. 

"Damn," Is all Sammy can think to say, drinking in the sight with obvious appreciation. Soon enough though just looking isn't enough and he reaches out to get his hands on Troy. 

Taking him by the shoulders he rolls them over so Troy is on his back on the bed and Sammy is on top for once, straddling the younger man's hips. Now that his post-orgasm haze has faded he's feeling a little bit more active and Troy's shirtless torso is certainly inspiring him to action. With a wicked grin he leans down and steal a kiss which turns quickly into him trailing kisses down Troy's chest.

Troy is almost totally hairless. Not _completely_ , but whatever hair there is on his chest is very thin and downy, just like the baby-fine hair on top of his head. He reaches down to run his hands down Sammy's shoulders and arms, squeezing down along his biceps as he watches his mouth trail down along his body. A hard pulse settles between his legs, throbbing against his slacks, and his breathing deepens into quick pulls through his nose. 

He hasn't been with an active lover since... shit, since Linsday. Loretta wasn't exactly a go-getter in the bedroom, and it's been so long Troy almost forgot what it felt like to let someone else take the reins. His flush spreads down over his neck and chest, turning a charming shade of red as embarrassment at Sammy's scrutiny settles in. Being _looked at_ like Sammy's looking at him makes him feel vulnerable-- but it's a good kind of vulnerable. He feels safe to just _be_.

Sammy kisses down Troy's sternum, down to his abs, taking the time to drag his body across the other man's groin as he moves lower, slowly teasing him. He mixes it up between soft kisses and sucking marks that will be hidden by Troy's shirt but he'll know they're there, and even the occasional light bite to feel his muscles jump under his mouth. Every inch of Troy is hard and tight with muscle and Sammy could spend ages exploring if they had the time. Which they will, later. 

"You're so goddamn sexy you know that?" He tells Troy between kisses, working his way back up his chest now. He slides a hand up his side to brush a thumb over his nipple, testing the waters to see what sort of reaction he'll get.

"I-- I'll take your word for it," Troy says, his voice thick with both emotion and pleasure as he takes the tie out of Sammy's hair properly. The sight of those dirty blonde waves spilling down over his shoulders makes him look downright princely. 

Sammy smiles and leaves off his exploration of Troy's chest to lean forward and kiss him again, a proper kiss this time rather than a teasing brush against his lips. "Trust me, you are. Now, lets get you out of these fucking pants." 

There was a part of Sammy that always assumed at the back of his mind that Troy's dick would be proportional to the rest of his body-- long and thin. And well... he was half right. 

Troy's cock is almost too heavy to stand upright, with a girthy bulge towards the center that tapers into a more narrow base, the head thick and spongy and blush pink. He's more than a little overwhelming to take in at a first glance, and the idea of actually getting that cock into any orifice on his body makes every muscle in Sammy's body clench up with excitement. 

His mouth is practically watering and he's half hard again already in anticipation just thinking about it. He wraps a hand around Troy to feel the weight and girth of him and strokes a few times, brushing his thumb over his head to spread the beads of pre-cum that have started to gather there, imagining how good it will feel inside him.

Troy huffs out through his nose like a bull, and he throws one of his forearms over his face, hiding his eyes in the crook of his elbows as pleasure makes his stomach go tight. Sammy can see the muscles from his hips all the way up to his chest flex with delight, the flush spreading even darker across his chest, going patchy in places and uneven across his throat. 

He can feel his entire body burning up, it's almost too much to be touched by Sammy like this after so many years of quiet, private longing. It feels like a dream come true, and he pries his arm away from his eyes just slightly to look up at the other man, and feels another throb shoot through his body and land in his cock as he does.

Sammy takes another long moment to just silently worship Troy's cock. Someday he'll taste him, his mouth is already watering at the thought of having that weight on his tongue, of letting Troy use him and fuck his throat until he can barely speak the next night on the radio. But that's going to have to wait for another time, today he wants Troy to _raw_ him exactly like he'd offered before and he wants it now.

"Do you- uh- you have supplies?" He asks Troy, gaze flicking back up to meet his eyes and his voice a little low and rough with desire.

"Supplies?" Troy repeats, his voice a little rough. "What, like... hammer and nails? Oh-- shoot, you mean like-- uh, not down here, crud. I didn't think this through." Nevermind the fact that he had no idea he would be bringing Sammy home today.

Sammy chuckles and rolls off Troy onto the bed next to him. "That's fine, no rush but if we're doing this we're going to need them. Since it's been a while and all that preparation is key."

"Just-- sit a spell, I'll be right back," Troy does up his pants so he doesn't have to walk through his house dick-out, and he quickly tromps up the stairs (boots still on) while Sammy goes to work tugging the blankets out of their perfectly made-up order on the bed. He'll probably pass all the way out after this, since it's technically past his bed time. 

Luckily he doesn't have long to wait before Troy is back, and this time he closes the door to the guest room when he enters, supplies in tow. "I'm fresh outta condoms but I figure that won't be a problem anyhow-- but I grabbed the uh-- well, you know." 

He had Sammy's cock in his mouth just a few minutes ago, but he can't even say the word lube. Troy Krieghauser truly is a treasure, Sammy thinks, as Troy climbs back onto the bed. He takes the time to kick off his boots before leaning out on top of the other man, uncapping the lube in the process so he can squirt some onto his fingers. Probably more than he actually needs, but it's better to be overprepared than not. 

Sammy expected some measure of caution or insecurity from Troy for a first-timer, but apparently he really is the sort to just plunge right in-- in this case, literally. He finds Sammy's hole without hesitation and rubs his fingers against it to warm him up to the feeling of being touched there by another person for the first time in years and years, and when he's satisfied with the relaxation of the muscle there, he works his middle finger inside-- and god help Sammy but Troy's fingers are long.

Sammy breathes out, his body relaxing around the intrusion. It’s been so long since he’s done this, with anyone or even alone and he needs a moment to adjust. Troy goes slowly, working him open with just one finger pressing deeper inside him than Sammy would have imagined fingers alone could reach. Soon enough Sammy is loose and open enough for another and he tells Troy so, knowing his lover won’t try to hurry him before he’s ready. 

The second finger joins the first and while Troy’s fingers are long they aren’t particularly thick. Sammy can feel the added fullness, the additional stretch it only takes a moment to adjust again and simply enjoy the sensation as Troy’s fingers slide in and out of him.

Troy's brow is furrowed in concentration, his other hand splayed against Sammy's chest as if to hold him down-- like he's going anywhere. He's completely entranced by the sensation of Sammy's insides grasping at his finger, the velvety soft texture of his channel fluttering and pulsing around his fingers in a way that makes his head spin. He flexes and spreads his fingers experimentally inside Sammy, stretching him out and relaxing his muscles with careful strokes. 

He doesn't have the practice necessary to be able to stimulate Sammy's prostate directly, but he doesn't really need to. His fingers are so long that they inevitably rub past the spot with every pass of his fingers inside him, and the little tingles of direct stimulation are enough to make the older man's muscles all twitch and tremble with pleasure. His cock is starting to fill out properly again. plumping up against his belly more and more with every drag of Troy's fingers. 

Sammy babbles praises and curses interchangeably, trying not to writhe too much on the bed as every drag of Troy's fingers sends sparks of pleasure up his spine. He begs Troy to hurry, to enter him-- but Troy isn't interested in rushing things. He knows Sammy might be hard up (and honestly he is too) but he wants to savor this. Not only will it be his first time with a man in general, it'll be his first time with Sammy, the man he's been pining after for years. 

Plying Sammy with three fingers has Troy glad that he'd pinned the older man down with a hand to his chest before they even started, because Sammy is moving like a snake now, arching his hips and back, his thighs spread open and trembling. He isn't even uing complete sentences, his words bitten off every other syllable by desperate, frantic moans. After so long abstaining and then a torturous few months of intolerable arousal, the pleasure of Troy's fingers is almost enough to make him pass out. 

When the fingers leave him, the sensation is heralded by an undignified squawk of displeasure that lifts a bright laugh out of Troy. "S'alright, Sammy, I'm just gettin' ready," he says, sliding his free hand from Sammy's chest up to his shoulder. "Just hold onto me now, this might still be a tight fit." 

Hearing Troy casually talk about how big his dick is makes Sammy whine, until he feels the blunt pressure of the other man's cock against his softened hole. He barely has a chance to take a breath in before he's breached and stretched wide. Troy makes a noise like he's been punched in the chest, and he hooks a hand under Sammy's knee to spread him open, bracing his weight on his shoulder with his other hand as he begins the agonizing slide inside.

Having Troy’s fingers inside him is nothing compared to the real thing. The stretch and fullness they had provided pales in comparison to the sweet burn of being stretched open around Troy’s thick cock and Sammy knows without a shadow of a doubt he’s going to be feeling this for the next day at least. Sitting in the studio tonight is going to be a chore, there’s no way he’ll be able to shift at all in his chair without getting half hard remembering this. He clenches instinctively around the intrusion and has to take a moment to breathe, forcing himself to relax and let Troy in but he can’t fully stop the way his channel pulses around him or keep his legs from falling open a little wider, encouraging Troy to press deeper until he’s fully sheathed in Sammy’s trembling body.

They both exhale together, going still as they take a moment to adjust to the feeling. The weight and fullness of Troy inside him after so long having left him utterly breathless even after being worked open so thoroughly.

"Oh lord," Troy's voice comes out in a soft, reverent whisper, as if he's about to break into prayer. He drops his forehead to rest against Sammy's shoulder and moves his hands to brace on the bed instead. Crouched on his elbows and knees over Sammy he seems so huge-- he's always been a particularly tall man, but having him looming over him now makes Sammy feel small and vulnerable in a very enticing way. 

Catching his composure by the roots, Troy pushes up straight-armed onto his hands so he can look down at Sammy, at the flushed and desperate look on his face-- a look he aims to provide for --and he pulls out just slightly so he can buck back inside. He moves slowly at first, taking his time in that gentlemanly way he always does, giving Sammy more than enough time to relax and warm up to the feeling. 

“God, _Troy_ ,” Sammy groans, head thrown back and eyes closed. He wraps his arms around Troy’s shoulders, needing something to hold onto. The slow pace Troy sets at first allows Sammy time to warm up to the feeling again, to get used to the feeling, but it also means he feels the slow deliberate drag of Troy’s cock inside him every time he thrusts. He feels the full length and girth of him with every press of his hips and brush of his length against his prostate sending jolts of pleasure through him. 

Unable to sit still for much longer, he starts to move with him, rolling his hips to meet his shallow thrusts. He tries to urge him without words to go harder, faster. To take him in the way he knows Troy wants to, judging from how he was manhandling him before.

Troy doesn't need to be told twice. When he's reasonably sure Sammy is ready for more, he kicks it up a notch. Leaning up to sit on his knees, Troy is able to look down at Sammy in his entirety, completely nude and flushed, his cock bouncing and his tummy jumping with every thrust as Troy starts to really give it to him. 

There's deceptive strength behind Sheriff Krieghauser's long, lanky form. Maybe it's due to the leverage afforded to his extreme height, or maybe it's just stored up in all that cordy muscle that runs the length of his body, but either way Sammy feels like Troy could handily snap him in half if he applied himself-- and lord, is he applying himself now. 

"Yes...yes... _fuck_ Troy _yes!"_ Sammy babbles as Troy pounds into him. This is exactly what he wanted. He wants to feel this for days, to not be able to move or sit without thinking of Troy fucking him until he can't stand. It's all he can do to hold on, his blunt nails digging into the musculature of Troy's shoulders while he rolls his hips to try and meet his thrusts and take him deeper.

Pleasure curls in his belly and races through his body with every snap of Troy's hips driving him closer and closer to the edge while he moans and gasps, heedless of his volume. With one orgasm behind him he's got a better chance of lasting a bit longer this time and he plans to, wanting to be able to watch Troy come apart this time. Experimentally Sammy clenches around him, teasing him as he bucks hard and fast into him.

Troy bares his teeth like a wild animal as he grabs Sammy underneath his knees and bends his legs up. He's mindful to not completely break him in half, he doesn't want to throw Sammy's back out after all, but he doesn't go easy on him either. Their skin slaps together noisily in the small room, and the bed squeaks as it sways from the force of Troy's thrusts, the headboard tapping rhythmically against the wall. 

"Aw hell, Sammy," he groans, his voice hoarse and low. He leans forward to grab the headboard with one hand, still holding one of Sammy's knees hostage with the other, and proceeds to drive into him with enough force that the older man has to throw a hand over his head to brace against the headboard just to keep from being fucked against it. Troy knows he's not long for it, and the shouts of pleasure that keep ripping out of Sammy's throat like even he's surprised by how good he feels is encouraging him along.

Sammy plants his free leg on the bed though his leg muscles are like jelly from the pounding he's taking. It provides just enough leverage for him to continue to meet Troy's thrusts, rocking up against him and urging him onward to take him as hard and fast as he can. 

"Come on Troy, give it to me babe, you're so fucking good," He gasps between cries and moans of pleasure.

The praise is what does Troy in. He grabs Sammy's cock but can't quite bring himself to stroke at the same time, he's so overcome with pleasure. He just flexes his hand around it in a fist as he comes undone, letting out a long, shuddering moan as his thrusts lose focus and he tumbles over the edge into relase. 

"Sammy-- Sammy--" he grits out, just barely keeping his eyes open a crack, determined to watch Sammy as he comes, determined to see him. 

Sammy forces his eyes to stay open and meets Troy’s eyes as he comes and he’s beautiful. Flushed and glistening with sweat, pupils blown wide and unfocused, his lips bitten red he looks absolutely wrecked as he reaches his climax. Sammy can feel him, shuddering all around him, cock twitching inside him and spilling warm and wet deep in his channel. It’s filthy and perfect and only a second later Sammy is crashing over the edge with him, Troy’s name on his lips as he comes across his lover’s hand and his belly, muscles jumping and twitching around the younger man still inside him.

They come down together, trembling and spent, breathing together nearly in perfect sync. Their panting slows to deep breathing as they both go soft and tender, and Troy plucks tissues from the bedside table, handing a few off to Sammy so he can tend to himself after he pulls out, and he wipes up the older man's belly and his own cock, before finally shimmying all the way out of his pants and dropping them to the ground so he's completely naked with Sammy. 

He flops down on the bed beside the other man-- his _lover_ now, he can say with certainty, and he drags Sammy closer to him once he's cleaned up so he can pillow his head against his chest. It doesn't surprise Sammy whatsoever to learn that Troy Krieghauser is a cuddler.

This doesn't bother Sammy at all. He's always been a fan of cuddling his lovers and since moving to King Falls and meeting Ben that's been extended to his friends as well. Troy now being both feels perfectly natural to snuggle up against, throwing an arm over the other man's waist and resting his head on his chest where he can listen to his heartbeat slowly returning to a steady rhythm. 

"Fuck that was good," He mumbles, smiling sleepily to himself. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I have in a long, long time," Troy admits, running his fingers through Sammy's long hair to gently untangle it from the bird nest he'd whipped it into. "I got an important question to ask you, though. I could ask it now or if you'd prefer I can wait and ask you later."

"You can ask now," Sammy says despite his eyes drooping shut thanks to Troy's gentle petting. "But ask quick. You're gonna put me to sleep."

"Sammy Stevens," Troy leans up onto his elbow in order to look down at Sammy. "With your fella's blessing-- would you like to go steady?"

Sammy opens his eyes and looks up at Troy for a long moment before his little sleepy smile spreads into a grin. With a laugh he nods, "Yes Troy, yeah I would like that a lot. Now get back down here." He tugs Troy back down to get comfortable again when suddenly he props _himself_ up on his elbow instead. "Though, this might cause some minor overcrowding problems."

"Overcrowdin'? How do you mean?" Troy asks, playing with a fluffy lock of hair hanging over Sammy's shoulder.

"Well, sometimes you'll want to come over to the apartment right? Movie nights, double or even triple dates with the rest of the group. And we already have four grown adults living in a two bedroom apartment with frequent visits and overnight stays from two additional girlfriends." Sammy explains to Troy. "I can barely breathe in there as it is."

"Well... shoot, ya'll are livin' in a place that small?" Troy frowns, tucking hair behind Sammy's ear. "Ya'll need a bigger place."

Lightning strikes his brain just then and he shoots upright to sit in the bed, his eyes going wide. "Well hang on a dang second, what about here? I was just tellin' ya how lonely it's been livin' here all by myself. I got all these spare bedrooms-- four of 'em in fact, five if we clear out the old study and stick a bed in there. I got more than enough space for all of ya'll."

Sammy blinks a few times in surprise, letting that sink into his sleepy, post-coital haze filled mind. "Seriously? That would mean me, Jack, Ben, and Lily right now and probably Emily and Katie in the very near future. That's a lot of people to suddenly open up your home to Troy, you might want to think it over a little."

"I done my thinkin' already. I was 'bout ready to get a dog just to put some noise back in this house. I can't stand livin' alone, man, I _hate_ it. I didn't wanna say nothin' cause I got this house free of mortgage from my mama, she worked her butt off to pay for it and I don't wanna say nothin' bad about it, but livin' this past year all by my lonesome has been the _worst_ ," Troy says earnestly, turning to face Sammy. "I want all of ya'll to live here with me. Ben, Lily, Jack, Emily-- hell, even Katie, if she don't think it'd be too weird to live with her boss. It's high time I lived with my family, I think."

"Alright, if you're sure," Sammy says. He tugs Troy back down to lay with him and kisses him softly. There's a good chance he's never going to get tired of being able to do that whenever he wants. "I'll ask the others about it tomorrow, see what they think but I bet they'll be glad to get out from under each other's feet too."

As it turns out, they are. They're able to pay off the rest of their lease and start moving out as early as the next week. Troy is more than enthusiastic in helping with the move-in process, carrying boxes, helping to arrange everyone in the best rooms possible (after thoroughly cleaning the downstairs guest room bed, as it becomes Ben's bed, across the hall from Lily) while giving everyone a tour of the place. 

Jack and Sammy pick the bedroom upstairs across the hall from Troy's room beside the study, which they already have plans to outfit into a little studio-away-from-studio, and the excitement over the basement space being eventually retrofitted into an entertainment center (seeing as Troy doesn't even have a TV) and even possibly a gym is enough to exctite every one of them. 

It's surreal, having all of his favorite people in one place after so many years. In less than a month, Emily is already seriously considering moving in with them, and though Katie hasn't completely warmed up to the idea of living with her boss just yet, the others think she won't be far behind. She certainly spends enough time there, especially once the basement is renovated into the home theatre Troy never could have even dreamed of growing up. 

They sit at the table and eat like a family and enjoy nights in the back yard at the fire pit, Emily helps Troy in the garden while Sammy and Jack cuddle on the bench swing nearby while sharing a blanket. Troy always knew he wanted a big family someday, and though he's got his share of regrets built up along the way over some of the decisions he made to get to this point-- he's pretty sure he'd make all the same choices all over again if it meant filling his house with this family he _chose_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway troy krieghauser is the best character in king falls, change my mind


End file.
